When Worlds Do More Than Collide
by Dovahtiink
Summary: **MILD ENDGAME SPOILERS** Robin and Wally do a bit of impromptu dimension-jumping when chasing the Penguin. Luckily they have a friendly neighborhood hideout, courtesy of their new friend Peter Parker. Loki's got the Tesseract, Penguin's teamed up with Hydra, multiple timelines converge, and Wally, Dick, Peter, Ned, and MJ find that vine references transcend time and space itself.
1. By Curious Happenstance

_**New York City **_

_**2012  
**_

* * *

Long before the mysteriously moving Tesseract had practically thrown itself back at him, case and all, Loki had known what he would do should he get his hands on the glowing blue cube once more.

Underneath the cool, nonchalant exterior and mischievous smirk he'd presented to his (adopted) brother and the little Midgardian gang of hero-wanna-be's, hatred and an irate desire for revenge boiled just beneath the surface. So, he'd spent the past few hours rubbing his wrists against his bonds, pushing down his humiliation at being muzzled like a _dog_, and thinking up scenarios of what he would have done should the Tesseract be in his possession again. Now that he knew more about the stone and was, in a sense, freed from Thanos's tight reins, the god of mischief could think of _so _many ways he could take down the moronic _plebeians _and their junkyard technology.

Puny god _indeed. _

He'd show them. He'd show them all just how powerful the god of mischief and magic could be. He'd put Thor in his place. He'd make Freya proud of the warrior of stealth and mystique he'd grown to be. He'd –

Then it happened. The man of Iron (who Loki found himself reluctantly respecting, considering the lowliness of the creature) had collapsed suddenly in a struggle with some sort of Shieldagents, the case had dropped and skidded an impossible distance where it was casually picked up by a security guard, and dropped just as quickly when the Green One burst through the door (along with half the wall) and practically ran over said security guard. This time the case broke open and the Tesseract bounced once before sliding right next to Loki's foot, making him lift his eyebrows in surprise before quickly glancing around. Seeing as everyone was still preoccupied with the one they called Stark, he swiftly squatted down and grasped it with his bound hands, lips turned up in his signature grin behind the offensive muzzle. With a flash of sucking blue light, he stepped back into the space continuum and made his escape, his mind already focused and in connection with the blue stone.

It was time to use the Tesseract to place him into one of the magickal portals he'd set up for situations such as this. A sliver of space that served as a window into a timeless pocket of space Loki often used to recollect himself and think, something he'd discovered could be done by combining his own flow of magick with the power of the stone. With his…ahem, _connections, _he may very well be able to get back to a time somewhere in 2012, before the Avengers had assembled and all that. But something felt wrong… the usual gust of space rushing around him felt bumpy and even jagged at times, biting into him and making his entire being prickle with something akin to electricity. The flashing blue spiral of Space itself was marked and eroded with patches of black, red, and yellow….like the streets of a city at night. Concern coiled in his stomach like Jormungand at the foot of Yggdrasil.

He should have been in his cozy little pocket dimension by now.

In the next second the breath was knocked completely out of him, making Loki wheeze and gasp for an air that was nonexistent in the vortex, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head and his hair whipping across his face. It was like he had hit a stone wall – or like the Hulk had grabbed him by the ankles again and bashed him repeatedly against the ground. Only this time… this time, Loki was yanked suddenly and viciously to the side, nearly giving him whiplash before the world spun around him, there was a sensation of falling, and he felt the ground beneath his feet.

And hands.

And it wasn't really the ground – more like… grass?

The blue energy around him faded and Loki found himself blinking up at a starry sky, sitting on his knees with his hands on the manicured grass of a football field, wondering exactly what he'd gotten himself into _this _time.

* * *

"Robin. Rob. Robby. Roooooooob. Robin. C'mon buddy, you're missing _Clash of the Titans!" _

No answer.

Wally threw the communicator onto the couch with a sigh, morosely chewing on one of M'gann's burnt cookies. The redhead had tried to contact his best friend thirty-six consecutive times, and the bird was still not answering.

"Alright guys, I'm gonna go see if I can find Rob, I'll be back in a flash." he called out to no one in particular. M'gann was in the kitchen humming some sort of strange Martian tune as she pulled more cookies out of the oven, Kaldur was shaking his head and muttering in Atlantean as he fiddled with the audio cords to the TV, Artemis was savagely brushing her impractically long hair, and Superboy was intently watching his favorite show – static.

"Weirdos."

In a millisecond, Wally dashed to his bedroom and pulled on a dark blue hoodie with a faded Superman logo before zipping back to the zeta beams and putting in the coordinates that of the team, only he and Robin knew – the code for the Batcave. With a bright flash of light, he left the Mountain. Luckily, he'd eaten enough in the past hour that the nauseating trip through the zeta beam didn't make him throw up – if he'd done that in the cave Batman would have him scrubbing the giant Penny with a toothbrush for _weeks_.

"Yo Rob! You're missing movie night again!" Wally called out, letting his eyes adjust to the dark interior of the Batcave. As always, it was freezing – the fact that it was snowing in Gotham obviously didn't help. A dim, blue glow came from the array of computers set up on one side of the cave and he sped over there, crossing his fingers and hoping the person in the chair was his best friend and not the Bat.

It was neither.

"Master Wallace, I presume you have a reasonable explanation for being here?" the old butler said, not even bothering to turn around. He had on a headset and was staring up at the mainframe. A map of what could only be the head-ache inducing network of Gotham's streets was displayed with side screens zeroed in on two slow-blinking points of blue and red light.

"Aw, man. Di – I mean, Robin didn't say he had patrol tonight!" Wally moaned, shuddering at the thought of having to spend movie night without his fellow prankster. Now he had no one to double-team with against Artemis.

"It was not on his schedule, no. Unfortunately, the Penguin has decided to engage in some rather suspicious activity on Gotham East tonight, and both Batman and Robin have had to set out on patrol early without even having consumed an ounce of their dinner."

"I bet that made Dick real happy," Wally said with a wince, no longer bothering to use code names now that he was sure the Big Bad Bats wasn't around to hear. Alfred raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

"Indeed. I regret it for the young Master especially, he's bird-like enough without missing meals. Not to mention it is negative four degrees outside and he has orders to be on stakeout."

"Whoooaaa negative fo – wait, you're probably talking Celsius. That would make it, uhh…. Around twenty five degrees in 'Murican. Geez."

Wally shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, staring at the unmoving red dot. It didn't look to be more than a block or so away from Pickerton's Ice Cream Parlor. An idea began to form in his mind.

"Say, Alfie, you don't think I could drop him a quick visit. Ya know, just to bring him a thermos of your awesome hot chocolate or something? I mean, from what Dick's told me about the Penguin he's not exactly a fast-acting sort, is he? So he could be out there for _hours_."

Alfred frowned, looking over at Wally for the first time since the Speedster's arrival. The redhead looked at him with hopeful green eyes, bouncing on his toes a little in nervous energy. Robin _had _been on that rooftop for over an hour already, and so far no changes had been made to the Penguin's suspiciously quiet status. Still…with the Flash's nephew's habit of effectively bumbling up any stealth missions, and in his civvies at that….

Then an unbidden image of Dick having to get up almost as soon as he'd sat down for a slow-cooked pot roast dinner and leaving to go sit out for hours in his less-than warmly designed costume for even _more _hours came to the elderly Englishman's mind, causing him to let out a world-weary sigh.

"It will have to be a quick visit, Master Wallace, and I expect you to deliver the thermos promptly and without delay. You shall report back here immediately and either wait for Master Richard to return or transport back to the Mountain yourself."

Wally straightened his back and threw up a salute, grinning broadly. "Sir, yes sir!"

If Alfred had been less dignified, he might have been tempted to roll his eyes.

* * *

"Wally, Wally, Wally. Will you ever learn you can't sneak up on a Bat?"

"What is _with _you people? Even Alfred knew I was there!"

"Shh!" Robin hissed at him, the white lenses of his mask barely visible from the shadows. The Boy Wonder was crouched on the edge of a thirty-story building, his cape falling around his lithe build and his black hair doing the rest of the work at keeping him hidden. Wally might have missed him entirely if Alfred hadn't given him a tiny watch-like device that directly connected him to Robin's tracker. The wise old guy had even given him a thermos of hot cocoa as well, as though he knew of Wally's tendency to…er… 'snack,' on other people's nourishment.

The cold air of Gotham hardly bothered him (one of the _many _benefits of a lightning fast metabolism), but Wally could see Robin give a little shiver every now and then - although that could just as well have been from the kid's insatiable need to _move_, a need often evidenced by the random flips and cartwheels and hand-walking he would do around the cave, something that came as naturally to the former circus performer as breathing. But yeah, either way, Dick needed some hot chocolate and good company.

"I brought the goods," Wally whispered conspiratorially, crouching down next to his friend and holding out the black metal thermos. Even with the hood drawn over his flaming red hair, he wasn't hidden quite as well as Robin, but he figured they should both be good for now. Robin made a quick scan of their surroundings before coming to the same conclusion and gratefully accepting the thermos, shrugging his shoulders.

"Thanks, dude. You didn't have to come out all this way."

"You kidding? Obviously I was saving myself from a long evening of trying to show Kaldur how to change the input on the TV and avoiding Artemis's punches."

"To be fair, you usually deserve those. And why are you guys all at the cave? Usually you and Arty at least would be out with Green Arrow and Flash on your own patrols….wait…oh. Oh yeah." The Boy Wonder lightly smacked his forehead with his glove. "It's movie night, isn't it?"

"Yup."

"Crap."

"Yup. You had one job, Rob, ONE JOB."

"Oh, shut up."

Wally smirked, reaching over to ruffle the younger's hair, much to the thirteen year-old's protests. If Robin hadn't been holding a thermos in one hand and a pair of high-tech binoculars in the other, the speedster would be sporting a _very _sore wrist at the moment.

"Honestly, I just want to hurry up and get this night over with. I'm cold, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I have an English paper due tomorrow that I haven't even started."

Wally offered his friend a pitying look. "Memes?"

"Memes."

"Did you ever get a grade on that one you did in History?"

"The one where I was supposed to write a fake letter home from the viewpoint of a Chinese immigrant in 1870? Ya, apparently writing the entire thing in Mandarin symbols was 'disrespectful to the teacher.' Detention was nice. Mr. Walowski didn't even notice I'd replaced myself with a balloon under an extra hoodie I had in my backpack."

"Duuuuude, nice one!"

"Thanks."

"So what did you do instead of serving your time in detention like any other law-abiding student?"

"Climbed through the airducts and dropped mixed nuts into the hair of my enemies."

"_Man, _I wanna transfer to Gotham Academy so bad…"

"Trust me, you really don – "

Robin hadn't even finished his sentence when a sudden bright light appeared from the top of a skyscraper a few blocks over. Immediately following it, there was a loud boom not unlike thunder, causing the building beneath their feet to shake minutely. All around and for the many miles they could see of Gotham, lights began flickering on and off in waves, the sounds of car alarms sounding off echoing throughout the night and the screech of thousands of tires sending the night into chaos.

Wally was half-freaked out of his mind by all this, having jumped to his feet with a shout of surprise. Robin just set his thermos down carefully with a sigh of disappointment before slowly getting to his feet.

"Ol' Cobblepot couldn't have waited until I at least finished my hot chocolate?" he muttered darkly, shooting a glare toward the general direction of the now-absent explosion of light.

"Aw man, aw man, aw man, aw man…..this doesn't seem good, thisdoesn'tseemgoodatall!" Wally whispered frantically, slipping into his speed-voice by accident.

Robin had brought up the holoscreen from his wrist computer and was typing away furiously, frowning in concentration. With a growl similar to his mentor he switched it off again, tapping at his earpiece. "This isn't good. The signal's jammed. Whatever that was, it acted as a sort of EMP – I can't reach Batman."

Wally paled, trying to keep calm but feeling the urge to just zip out of there but only a fierce loyalty to his friend keeping him from doing so. Definitely not because he was frozen stiff with fear. And even if he was, this was _Gotham. _Trouble in Gotham was always like, ten times worse than anywhere else!

"Walls! It's no use – whatever this was it's messing with my entire system, I'm gonna need to get closer and see if I can get a read on the situation. Batman will be doing the same so that's our best bet to get communication up again."

"W-what? No! You can't go up there! That's like – like, _Condiment Man _levels of stupid!"

Robin looked over at him, his grapnel gun already out and poised to fire. Behind the mask, his face was completely unreadable – all business and in a full vigilante mode that only came with years of experience. Wally hated that face.

"Look, KF. I know what I'm doing. I can take care of myself, and besides, Batman's probably gonna be there before me anyway. Go back to the Mountain and save me some pizza, I might still be able to make it back in time for that, at least."

The nonchalance of the words snapped Wally out of his panic better than any slap in the face could. He set his jaw stubbornly, taking deep, even breaths to calm himself. He had _superpowers. _He should be even calmer than Robin in this kind of situation! Leaving his best friend to this, no matter the amount of experience the younger had under his belt, would be beyond cowardly. It would be just plain _wrong. _

"Nah. I'm coming with you."

Robin stared at him incredulously, his head cocking to the side. "You _know _how Batman feels about Metas working in his city."

Wally gulped, but pushed on. "Doesn't matter. I'm coming with."

"…and exactly how well has _that _particular phrase worked out for people in any movie ever," Robin muttered under his breath. Still, the situation at hand was calling and the longer he left it, the worse it would probably get. Not to mention, it would be good to have some backup when the communicators weren't working like this and he was going in blind. "all right. Follow me."

Without another word the young vigilante leapt off the building, the faint whir of his grapnel fading into the distance along with his twisting, falling-and-rising form. Wally grumbled about 'bats and their gadgets' before going back the way he came and taking the stairs. At superspeed, sure, but still. It was always kind of insulting.

Less than two minutes later he back at his friend's side, the two of them stealthily positioned on the skyscraper just opposite the one that had emitted the blast. From there they could see an enormous, spiraled metal contraption set up directly on the roof's center. The device was similar in design to their Zeta Tubes, with a few features from the Boom Tubes that the Light liked to use ("_that's _not good,"). Blindingly white ground lights lit up the area around it, and a few paces over a squat man in a top hat was cursing unintelligibly as he fiddled with a control unit, his face briefly lit up by the sparks coming off it in intervals.

There was no sign of Batman.

At least, none that Wally could see.

"Rob?" he whispered, lightly poking his friend's shoulder. "is Batman here?"

Robin shook his head, his mouth set tightly in a line of worry.

"Does…that look a bit like a transporter to you?"

"Worse. It's got designs similar to the reality disruption magic that Klarion uses to get back to his dimension of chaos."

"Wait, how do you even _know _– "

"Batman. The answer's always Batman."

Something the Penguin was doing must have gone right because the diminutive hook-nosed man let out a little 'aha!' of excitement before a light began to spiral from within the middle of the spiraled dimension device, growing in dimension until it filled the entire top of the building with his light. Wally had to squint just to be able to make out anything without hurting his eyes. It looked like the Penguin had picked some sort of a bundle off the roof and was waddling forward towards the portal…from his peripheral Wally saw Robin leap forward and shoot his grapnel out once more, his cape streaming behind him.

_No!_

The speedster used all his speed and strength to leap off the building after him, just managing to throw his arms around Robin's legs and holding on for dear life as they swung through the air fifteen hundred feet above ground, Robin only grunting once at what must have been a rather painful tug on his arm. They nearly collided with the edge of the building but made it all the same, the landing less than graceful. Wally had barely got his wits about him again from the dizzying stunt before Robin had rolled out of the landing and was sprinting toward Penguin, shouting something he couldn't quite understand. Finally the pressure in his ears cleared and he could make out the words.

" – HOLD ON TO SOMETHING!"

A second later he saw why,

The portal was glowing blue and was _sucking _the Penguin towards it, the draw seemingly growing stronger as the rotund villain eagerly let himself be pulled forward. Robin, with his lighter weight, seemed to feel the pull even more strongly and shot his grapnel to a nearby flagpole, the line growing taut just as he plowed right into the villain and hung on for dear life, trying to keep both Penguin and himself from getting sucked in.

Meanwhile Wally suddenly felt the air around him grow somehow…_thicker, _almost jelly-like and there was a blast of energy in the air that had him scrabbling to find something to grab, the only thing nearby being an air conditioning unit that offered little purchase for his gloveless fingers. The vacuum was growing stronger by the minute and he felt his feet leave the ground, leaving him in a parallel position that made it even harder to hold on.

"ROB!" he screamed, unable to see if his friend was still outside the portal. He heard his name gasped and he turned his head a bit, trying to see what had left the little bird sounding so strained.

That was a mistake.

The small movement was all that was needed for his fingers to finally tear loose from their anchor, sending him flying backwards toward the portal….and straight into a quickly weakening Robin doing his best to hold onto a struggling villain of fattened proportions. Naturally, this caused Robin to lose his grip on the decal line.

All three fell back into the electric blue maw of the portal, screaming themselves silly.

* * *

**So this is a little something that's turned into a _lot _of something that I've been working on with another writer. We were hit hard by Endgame feels and I'm still languishing in DC feels and fun as well, so... CROSSOVER TIME! Peter Parker will be making an appearance in the next chapter, and our favorite Speedster and his ninja will enter Peter's dimension at a time set a few months after Homecoming. Shenanigans will ensue!**

**** **Also, since this was all entirely for fun and it is very hard to co-write with someone over Gmail chat, the POVs might be a little wonky (third person omniscient!). That being said, I've seen fanfics written in second person present tense, so just...er... enjoy if you want? XD Sorry for any confusion. Anyhoo, OONNWWaARRDDSssSSSsSS**


	2. A Few Left Turns At Albuquerque

Peter let out a long, very satisfying breath and leaned back against the wall.

He made sure his arms were crossed and that he was slightly angled away from the robber he'd just wrapped up (who was very conspicuously dressed in all black). It was a casual stance. A confident stance. He jerked his head at the guy, fighting to control his breathing. The criminal had been unusually slippery tonight, and the teenager just _knew_ that whatever was on his foot wasn't just mud.

"So...you come here often?"

The man glared with such hatred that Peter felt his hear buck a little bit. He swallowed. It was time to _wrap _this thing up for good. He still had to stop at the bank, like he promised Aunt May he would. He had forgotten to do it right after school, so he wasn't even sure if they were still open. It was worth a shot, though. "Karen, can you tell the police where this guy's at?"

"Yes, Peter."

"Thanks. Do that please."

"Already done."

Peter dropped a gratuitous salute at the grizzly man plastered to the wall, who was still regretting all his life decisions, and then shot a web to the roof of the next building over. When he was safely away from the man, tucked away on a rooftop a few blocks from the bank, he located his backpack and changed back to his regular clothes. It was a nice night for a walk anyway.

"We did pretty good today, didn't we, Karen?" Peter said, stuffing the rest of his suit into his bag. Karen replied in the affirmative, and Peter swung off the roof to the ground. He rubbed his hands together, surprised at just how hot his suit had been, and then took off at a brisk walk.

He _had _done pretty well tonight.

Two cat burglars, three guided tourists, and five or six rescued pets. It wasn't bad for a school afternoon. He reached the bank soon enough, but found that it was indeed closed.

"Crap. Aunt May's gonna be so mad."

He ran a hand down his face, thinking. He knew she needed that cash...but he figured that whatever old lady lived in the apartment that one guy was trying to steal from probably needed her cash, too. He snapped his fingers. "Got it. I'll just step into Delmar's, grab a sandwich, and ask him to break a twenty. I think I have one in my bag." Peter stepped into the little sandwich shop, which was just about to close, a few minutes later. He grinned at Delmar behind the counter. The man smiled back.

"Here for a late night snack, Pete?"

"Yeah. Maybe some cash, too."

Delmar nodded, his hands already busy preparing what he knew Peter was going to order. The teenager noted with satisfaction that everything seemed to have been restored after his little escapade a few months back. Granted, there were a few burn marks near the very back, but they weren't very noticeable. Peter was just glad Delmar still wanted to keep this place running—he wouldn't know what to do if the best sandwich place in Queens was shut down. Sandwich in hand, Peter stepped outside again and checked his watch.

"Holy—!" he yelped, and then glanced frantically up and down the street. It was five minutes until curfew, and though he wasn't sure what would happen if he broke curfew, he was pretty sure he didn't want to find out. He knew Aunt May had formed connections with Mr. Stark, and the last thing he wanted was to find him at their apartment, giving that disappointed you-disobeyed-what-I-said kind of frown. He almost asked Karen what the fastest way home was before he remembered that he was back in civilian clothes. And in front of Delmar's. He was just going to have to do it the old-fashioned way: run. He was almost in sight of the apartment complex's front door when his spidey senses went on full-alert.

Peter wheeled around, scanning the buildings and sidewalks all around him. Not a few seconds later, he heard, quite distinctly, someone—possibly some _people—_screaming. And the screaming was getting louder. He barely saw the figure closest to him in time, he was falling so fast. It seemed like there might have been more people nearby, but he neither had the time nor the desire to wait around and find out. He had to land this person, and land him fast. Preferably safely.

"Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap..."

Peter shot a web from his watch (Mr. Stark had actually suggested he make it double as a web-shooter) and used it to scramble to the top of the building right beside the falling person (what the heck? How was he even _falling _from that high up?!). Then, without a second thought—which he wouldn't have had time for anyway—he launched himself from the building with all the strength he could muster considering he had just full-out sprinted for five blocks. The moment he felt the air leave his lungs (and the pain replace it) with the impact, he gripped whoever this was and shot another web out in the general direction of the apartment buildings on the other side of the street. He could only hope it attached to something that was either soft enough that two bodies flying into it wouldn't be broken beyond repair (the chances seemed pretty low for that one) or that it attached to something he could swing on.

Either way, he figured he would probably be limping at school tomorrow. And maybe earning that frown from Mr. Stark.

* * *

"I'M GONNA DIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!" Wally was screaming as he fell through the air in a speed he was altogether _not _in any way comfortable with.

That being said he wasn't thinking of Supervillains or even his best friend at the moment, not with the sparkling spread of the city winking up at him amidst the darkness. Wait a second... wasn't he just entering some sort of portal thingy?

"I'M TOO YOUNG AND HANDSOME TO DIEEEEE!" he continued screaming, although at this point it just kind of seemed redundant. The ground was fast approaching...he could make out buildings...there was the slick pavement his guts would soon splatter across...ew...

_Oh no. Rob's gonna see me fall... _Wally thought with a wince, feeling like his insides were simultaneously shriveling and turning somersaults. That wouldn't do. He couldn't do that to him. Not after...

_WHAP!_

There was the abrupt feeling of his body slamming against what felt like another body and the redhead nearly passed out from the shock of it, feeling something give in his chest a bit as he let out a howl. It was about _time _Robin put an end to their little free fall. Except...

"Ew. Dude, since when did you start wearing Axe body spray? And why do you suddenly feel all buff and...stuff..." Wally groaned, blinking. He stared at the face of his savior from where he was dangling in a kind of humiliating way over the person's arm. "...uhhh, you're not Rob."

* * *

Peter Parker let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding when they he and his…package…weren't slammed into the wall...at least not bodily. He had managed to use his feet to stop him and whoever this was from a complete crash into oblivion. Now, things were just awkward (especially after that half-heard comment about being...buff?)

He looked down at the redheaded guy he had just saved and realized, with a fair amount of panic that 1) He, Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, wasn't wearing his mask and 2) this guy looked to be about his age. As quickly as he could while still being save, Peter lowered them both to the ground and then stepped away from the other teenager. He tried keeping his head down as much as possible when he spoke, but it was probably near impossible to conceal his face considering they were right under a streetlamp.

"Hey," he said, weakly.

Crap. A voice crack, now? Why couldn't the spider bite have just made him skip over puberty?

"I'm...I'm Spiderman."

Peter was now officially freaking out. he had meant to say _Peter, _not Spiderman. Definitely not the way things should have gone.

Wally stared at the brown-haired teen in return, feeling his eyes grow wider. Crap. He was in civvies and had just been caught falling from the sky screaming. And then this...(ordinary person?) They were staring at him? And where was…?

"Uh, thanks for uh, great catch...uh, yeah. Have you seen the Boy Wonder around by any chance? With the Penguin? They were...er, falling just after me up there and, uh, I'd hate to see him go without getting, uh, his autograph...er...he saved me? I guess? I'mWallybytheway."

_Ya, this is why you're the thinker, Wally. _

With any luck the kid would be too enthralled with having Gotham's very own barely-teenaged vigilante in the vicinity to be questioning why Wally had fallen from the sky. And Spiderman? What was that, some sort of wacky last name or something?

Peter was frozen. All this warp-speed nonsense coming from the other guy's mouth made no sense. He swallowed a few times. What should he do?

"Uh...yeah. Don't mention it. I mean," he cleared his throat, trying to erase the little squeak in his voice. "I didn't see any penguins, uh...and...I think someone else might have been falling, but I couldn't see very well. Also...why were you falling from the sky? I'm sorry to ask if that's...uh...personal business, but I mean..."

He stopped upon feeling the telltale buzz of his phone in his back pocket. That would be May. He cringed into himself some more. "Oh, and...nice to meet you Wally. I'm Peter. I mean Spiderman. Peter...Spiderman."

He swallowed again, and Wally eyed him critically.

Peter Spiderman? Huh. _Definitely a last name, then_.

Wally opened his mouth to reply when an eerie cackle suddenly echoed through the night. "ROB! OVER HERE!" he screeched, jerking his head up and looking around wildly.

"Who's your friend?"

Both Wally and Peter Spiderman jumped in surprise at the new voice.

"Now's _really _not the time to pull your ninja shenanigans!" Wally hissed before remembering he was supposed to be in awe or something of his teammate. Oh well.

Robin had his cape pulled around him tightly, masking his arms. The lenses of his mask narrowed as he took in the pale teenager next to his friend. This was the guy he'd just watched pull KF from the sky? Robin had had his own hands literally full with the Penguin, but the sneaky old geiger had knocked the wind out of him with his umbrella as soon as they made it to the ground and ran off. He'd decided to find Wally and make sure he was alright instead of going after the monocle-wearing villain - there would always be another time to track him down.

"He's Peter Spiderman," Wally offered in answer, waggling his eyebrows a bit and barely restraining a snort.

"Uh, right. Hey, how did you do the thing with the glorified silly string? I've never seen anything like it.

Peter was _not _expecting the ninja-cloak kid to appear. And that was saying something, because his spidey senses could usually pick up on stuff like that. He watched in something akin to a daze of growing horror (here was yet _another _person who had seen him do something crazy without a mask on) as the guy he'd saved and this shorter mystery exchange a few words. He barely pulled out of his thoughts in time to realize that he had been asked a question.

And that they thought his name was Peter Spiderman.

"No, actually I'm Peter. Just Peter. And the string was..." He should have just gone with Spiderman. He palmed his own face and leaned back against the wall a bit. His ankles were throbbing.

"Just, like, some new invention. Thing."

He stopped, fully realizing he had botched this up beyond measure.

"Mr. Stark's going to kill me," he muttered. "Right after Aunt May's finished."

"Look, you seem like a nice kid." Robin said firmly, taking a step forward. Beside him, Wally crossed his arms, fully content to play the part of muscle in what was looking to be like one of Rob's infamous bat-interrogations. Not that he was stupid. He was just more muscular than Rob. Well, maybe not relatively. Ahem. Gee, who was he kidding? He was hungry already.

"Gotham may or may not be in danger and I can't seem to get a hold of my partner. The Penguin just escaped and now we find _you _out here wandering around in the dark with some invention that I've never seen that you apparently just _stumbled onto. _Do you realize how bad this looks for you?"

Robin's tone softened, something that Wally knew was done intentionally. Dang, Batman really did teach him _everything. _

"Look, we just need some solid answers, yeah?"

_Oh, gosh,_ Peter thought, somewhat numbly. _This kid is scary_.

For some reason, he also reminded Peter that he had an essay due tomorrow. It wasn't looking like that was going to get done tonight. Crap. He inhaled and tried to shove down the little bit of anxiety that one step forward had produced in him. He noticed, too, that the redhead he'd saved had crossed his arms. It made him look a little more confident, and Peter remembered how he'd done that same thing earlier that night. He crossed his own arms and steadied his voice, but his head was full of the weird names the cloaked boy had been spouting. _Gotham? The Penguin? _Seriously, that was the second time tonight these two had mentioned penguins of all things.

"Guys, I don't know who you are or where you came from or what the heck your talking about, but, uh, if anyone should be, you know, suspicious, it's me. I'm the friendly neighborhood..." he barely stopped himself in time. "Peter, so...how about you tell _me _why you fell from the sky and why..."

_Wow_, _this person is really unnerving_.

"…you're...here. Right now."

"Well, Friendly-Neighborhood-Peter," Robin deadpanned and this time Wally couldn't contain his unmanly giggle. He clapped a hand over his mouth. "We were _falling _because of the _Penguin. _He's built some sort of device over on that skyscraper and it caused all sorts of power outages, in case you hadn't...noticed...wait."

Robin looked around, the facade dropping a little. The building wasn't there. The ice cream parlor that should have been just near where they were standing wasn't there. The skyline looked different. It was _warmer."...oh." _he said breathlessly, having the distinct feeling he was drowning in things waaayyy beyond his paygrade. Or would that be allowance?

Wally caught his falter and looked at him quizzically, too unobservant to notice their surroundings.

"What...where are we exactly?" Robin asked Peter whoever-he-was, his face a shad lighter in the dull light of the streetlamp.

While Peter could fully sympathize with the slightly girl-sounded giggle the redhead let out, he was a little put off by how...confident? This younger kid seemed. That is, until he seemed to realize some horrible secret and then asked him where they were. "Queens, New York City," he said. By this time, he had a sneaking suspicion. What if these guys were aliens or something? It certainly wouldn't be the first time New York had been hit hard. He hoped he wasn't paling too badly at that thought. Midterms were coming up-he didn't want to get abducted before the chemistry exam, at least.

"Oh, _sweet honey iced tea," _Robin whispered under his breath, his caped shoulders slumping.

"What does that mean? Why are you facepalming? Robwhat'sgoingon!?" the speedster questioned, eyes widening.

"We're in a freakin' alternate dimension, Wally!" the thirteen year-old snapped, rounding on him.

"...no."

"_Yes." _

_"_Aw man…Barry is gonna kill me."

"I think you need to sort out your priorities."

"What, like you did last week with the deep fried oreo and your sunglasses?"

"That was one time."

"Dude, we're in another _dimension right now!"_

"_YES, I NOTICED." _

"...wait, do you think this dimension has like, female versions of ourselves or something?"

"Dude, you watch _way _too much television."

"No, really! Ooh does that mean there's a Batman running around here somewhere in a batbra?"

"WALLY, STOP YOUR CORRUPTION OF MY INNOCENT EARS."

"And like, a guy Wonder Woman? Wonder Man?"

"Why am I friends with you."

Peter's phone buzzed again. And again. And again. The moment the cloaked boy (slightly reminiscent of Zorro?) said "freakin' alternate dimension", he knew he was in trouble way over his head.

Again.

_MRSTARKNEEDSTOKNOWAOUTTHIS..._

_"_Uh...guys. I, uh, need to go get something?" Peter said hoarsely. He swallowed again. He really wanted to get into his apartment, despite the gathering storm of May's wrath that was no doubt descending upon the apartment right now. But it looked like a report to Mr. Stark was in order. And for that, he probably needed Karen.

Before any more ridiculously confusing sentences could come out of either of the two stranger's mouth, Peter turned and started jogging back to where he had, unfortunately, dropped his sandwich and shed his backpack. _Maybe it's not the best idea to leave them there..._

"I'm sorry, Aunt May," he breathed. He was literally half a block away from home, and here he was, running in the opposite direction, leaving the two strangers behind-and in his regular, unmasking clothes at that. If this were a movie, he was about to get, like, mugged or something. And he didn't need his spidey senses to tell him that.

"Oh no you don't." Robin said in a low voice, eyes narrowing once more.

In a move faster than Kid Flash could blink, he'd thrown out one of his bolos (or Triparangs, he hadn't quite worked out the name for them yet). The lead balls and cable spun and twisted through the air, heading straight for the running teen's legs. Bruce had designed them so that the lead balls were covered in an impact-reducing material so as not to injure, but the mere force combined with the wrapping effect had the ability to trip someone many times this kid's size. Just in case (a bat's favorite phrase!), he held two knockout gas pellets in his left fingers, standing ready to shove KF out of the way.

Peter felt the impact a moment later, and his first thought was not _oh, great, now there's gonna be more fights _(that was his second); it was more like:

_oh, crap IknewthiswasgoingtohappenandIignoredallwarningsigns!_

Needless to say, whatever Zorro had just thrown wrapped around his legs and made him fall flat. He caught himself with his hands (just barely), and _really _began to miss his suit. It would have saved him the skin that was now on the pavement. He grunted and managed to twist so that he was now sitting on his bum facing his assailant, knees propped up so he could see whatever the heck had tripped him. Some kind of weird metal ball thing. He looked up at Zorro and Redhead, exasperated. His phone was digging into his rear.

"Look," he said. "I really don't want to hurt you guys, 'cause I know you just, like, fell from the sky, but I really need to go call Mr. Stark. He can help you. Or something. "He paused. "Plus, May's gonna be ticked as it is." He reached down and untangled the lead ball thing with some difficulty. His spidey senses were really failing him tonight...that or Zorro was just that fast.

"I mean," Robin glanced over at the redhead, lifting an eyebrow. Kid Flash just shrugged, burrowing his hands into his hoodie again.

"Man, I feel so useless tonight." the redhead mumbled.

Robin snorted. "You're not useless, you can be used as a bad example. Who goes out in Gotham in the middle of the night without their suit?"

"HEY, I was bringing _you _hot chocolate! And geez, whatever happened to _secret identities, pal?"_

"You didn't tell him your last name." the Boy Wonder pointed out, still completely moving the teen carefully unraveling himself.

"That doesn't mat - okay, yeah. Good point. But on a scale of invading Russia to the Australian Emu war how badly do you think Flash would own me if I just used my hops? Since we're in an alternate dimension?"

"I'd say being an Engineer on the Crazy Train."

"Well, s***."

"Language."

Robin looked back over at Peter. "Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere, even if you do somehow manage to kick our butts. In the words of E.V. Lucas, 'There is no diplomacy like candor.'"

Wally rolled his eyes, huffing. "And by that, the Boy Blunder over here means, 'can we talk?"

* * *

**Once again I apologize for the possibly very confusing POVs in this, but the other writer and I are having too much fun to stop. ^.^ If you want to leave a review with your opinion on the POVs and any helpful suggestions you might have to make it easier to co-write, I'd love to hear them. *Narrator voice* NEXT TiMe oUr HEroES eXPeRIEnCE THe dELIghTS oF gENUiNE INdiAN CUiSINe sO STaY TUNeD FOr MOARRRRRR**


	3. Oh, You Need My Phone? Sounds Legit

Peter stood up, relieved to find that his hands were _not_ actually skinned. He had just landed on a piece of old gum. "Gross," he muttered, wiping them pointlessly on his jeans. He looked up at Zorro and evaluated him. His night (and that chemistry test) was probably shot by now anyway, so why not? Maybe he could figure something out to tell Mr. Stark so that he wasn't a complete failure.

"Fair enough. But I have a chemistry exam this week, and tonight's really the only night I have to study for it, so...yeah. Also, can I ask a question first?" he took a somewhat hesitant step forward, and his stomach grumbled at the same time. He never got to eat his sandwich. "Are you guys superheroes? Like...you know, the Avengers (but maybe on a really lesser scale; like if they're a ten you'd be, like, a three)?"

Robin and Wally shared another glance. Peter was really starting to get annoyed at that.

"I'd offer to help you with that test if we had time and you didn't just call us a three on the superhero scale." Wally mumbled, then let out an 'ow!' when Robin jabbed him in the side with a bony elbow.

"Lose the 'tude, Kid Mouth. We - I'm, er...oh, hang it all - yeah, we're superheroes. I'm not sure what you mean by Avengers, though. That's kind of exactly _not _what we do, by the way, and I prefer not to place myself within numerical boxes if I can help it."

"Rob's a liar, he _loves _both numbers and boxes."

"Shut up. Is there a place we can talk...Peter? Maybe somewhere with food?"

Wally nodded vigorously, imagining himself wasting away (all those hard earned muscles, nooo!) within minutes if he didn't get some food soon.

"If it helps, I'll foot the bill," Robin offered, taking a few steps closer to the suspicious Spider-dude. He allowed himself to relax and seem a bit more like the (unsuperpowered) kid he was in hopes it would calm the stranger down a bit. He had to get to the bottom of this, and he needed to know if these... _Avengers, _took their name to the extreme. Were they bad guys? Did they have any connection to the Light and to the portal? He desperately hoped not.

"You guys don't know about the Avengers?!" the words came out before Peter could stop them, so he retraced as quickly as possible, rubbing his face quite violently with both hands. He was tired. He could still see his front door from here. And May was probably staring at a picture of him or something with the rage of a thousand suns right now (he had _promised _her, multiple times, that he would obey curfew). "Never mind. Sorry. That's irrelevant. Ok...food. Yeah." He remembered his poor abandoned sandwich and the fact that Delmar's was closed.

Peter never really visited any other quick-eats place in Queens if he could help it, and he figured that was out of the picture (although The Cloaked One had said something about footing the bill...)-who knew if they were closed, too. It _was _past eight. He figured it would be impolite to take his, er, guests to any other place besides Delmar's their first time in Queens (or whatever) anyway. So...looked like he was sharing his sandwich. They could eat...on a rooftop, maybe?

He managed to sputter another awkward sentence before his silence became too horrible. Hopefully.

"I have a sandwich we could eat...back with my...backpack. It's pretty fresh, too, and a lot of places aren't open right now. So, uh...would you guys be OK with a rooftop?" he winced at how uncertain he sounded. "Sorry I can't offer anything better. You kinda surprised me with the whole falling-out-of-the-sky thing. I promise there's no, like, poison in it or anything (it's free)." _Oh, gosh. Wrong thing to say._

"Hmm." the short one said thoughtfully, his cloak parting as he raised his gloved hand. Ignoring Wally's moans about how he could eat about forty sandwiches and still never be full, Robin brought up his wrist computer, tapping out a few things on the blue screen. Without looking up, he held out his other hand to Mr. What, why? the Spider Guy, fingers outstretched. "Phone." he said simply.

Peter frowned. Zorro-kid wanted his phone? He'd already lost some dignity, some privileges, and a couple of points on his exam grade. And what was with the tech? Not quite Stark-level, but definitely better than the layman's watch. His own included.

"Uh...why?"

"Gimme." Robin demanded again, still not looking up as he pulled a short cord out of his glove. "I'm finding us somewhere to eat but my database hasn't been updated with this New York's maps. Assuming you still have some sort of Google search here?"

"Please just give him the phone," Wally said faintly, starting to look nauseated. He hadn't eaten in like, five hours now.

_Oh, crap. _Peter thought, feeling hesitant. What's-his-face...Wally? Yeah, Wally. He didn't look like he was feeling so good. Peter reluctantly pulled out his phone (no cracks! He'd forgotten about Mr. Stark's screen upgrade) and handed it to Zorro-kid, a bit embarrassed that there were 12 missed calls from Aunt May.

"My san'wich's good..." he muttered, sighing. Although he couldn't deny he was just a tad happy he'd be able to keep his sandwich. Provided they wouldn't trip him when he tried to get his backpack again...

Robin grabbed the phone and plugged it into his gauntlet, doing some more one-handed typing at the speed of fast (an accurate measurement, according to Speedsters). An awkward thirty seconds later he had the Wi-Fi passwords to every single house in the city...along with a few other thing.

"Okay, so we've got a Chinese joint, three and a half stars, 2 blocks away. Or we can do Indian seven blocks away - Five star rating with genuine cuisine and fresh ingredients. Prices aren't too bad either. KF, you think you could grab Petey here and I'll swing through?"

"Er...yeah, sure why not. Seven blocks won't be bad."

"Awesome. Here's your phone back."

Robin tossed the phone lightly, keeping a sharp eye out for the older kid's reflexes. There was a lot he didn't know about this situation, and he didn't like it at all. He'd gotten more than he'd expected from Peter's phone and he'd have to look at it all later. There had been a few surprising firewalls that looked similar to the ones he had designed himself for the Batcomputer. "You like Indian food? The lamb saag is always delicious and you can't beat a good paneer."

Peter caught the phone and tucked it into his back pocket again, a bit perturbed. He'd known about the Chinese place (Ned swore it was the nastiest food ever, so he'd never bothered to go inside), but he'd never heard about the Indian one. In fact, he'd never even _had _Indian before. It sounded better than his sandwich, honestly. He'd had one of those every day, it seemed, since it had first opened (except when he went to Germany and fought the freaking Avengers (_he stole Captain America's shield!)_)

Except...Aunt May. And Mr. Stark.

"Uh..Indian. Yeah. That sounds good, I guess. Can I get my bag first, though? It's on the other side of the street, over there," he said, pointing. "Without being tripped this time, if you don't mind?"

"Wally can get it."

Neither boys had time to blink before KF seemingly appeared out of thin air at Peter's elbow in a rush of wind, his hair looking like dusty flames sticking straight out from his head.

"Here ya go, buddy." Wally smirked, hooking the backpack around the (slightly shorter! Ha!) sixteen year-old's shoulder. He proceeded prop himself up on Peter, his arm around him like they were old friends. "So, quick question. You ever had whiplash before?"

Peter's mouth may have dropped open just a tad. They _were _superheros. Honestly, though, he should have figured it out by now. Also...what was with the bro lean? "Yeah, actually. I have had whipl-"

Peter's spidey senses never even had the chance to go off.

"Not with me you won't!"

Placing a hand on the back of his head, Kid flash scooped up Peter and sped off in the general direction Robin had pointed. Robin took one more moment to look at his holoscreen, feeling mildly unsettled at one of the things he had seen already. An entirely new plethora of both heroes and supervillains to deal with and it was just him and KF. No Team. No back up. No Batman

He had a feeling this was going to be one giant headache.

Sighing, he shut off the wrist computer and took out his spare grapnel, finding an unfamiliar building to latch onto before shooting off into the night. 

* * *

_**Stark Tower**_

"Friday, run diagnostics on monitor four oh five eight dash 'A.'"

"Diagnostics scan: Complete. Records indicate a minor breach in section four point nine of the Restricted Class 'b' zero nine filestack. Operation terminated at point nine terminals. Classification: Quickscan probe using one of your own randomized passcodes, Mr. Stark. Shall I wipe database clean and rerun Furywall?"

"Sure. And while you're at it, get Happy up here. I think his papoose has slipped the knapsack." 

* * *

**Mwahahaha the plot thickens! (Actually, not really - if anything it's kind of slow but we're taking our own sweet time because... XD) **

***Furywall - a program Tony designed that is exactly what it sounds like **


	4. This Guy Sure Eats A Lot

Peter felt mildly dizzy, and when he opened his eyes, he was most definitely _not _on the stinky street, but in an extremely aromatic, extremely bright, and extremely warm restaurant. Wally was standing beside him, and a waiter was peering at them with a vaguely confused look on his face.

The teenaged superhero looked over at Wally, incredulous and totally channeling his inner Ned.

"Dude. You can _teleport_? How did _that_ happen? That's so much cooler, than like..." he stopped. Nope. Not making any more blunders regarding-ahem-_Spiderman_. Ok, so maybe he was a little bit jealous now. Teleportation was awesome. Although he did feel woozy still. His phone buzzed in his pocket again.

The waiter looked annoyed.

Wally felt the tips of his ears go red. He hated when they did that. "Uhhhh...yee-aahhhh. Teleportation. It's totally what I do. Totally cool. Like, cooler than, I dunno. Flipping around and being able to touch your heels to the back of your head. Booth for three, please."

Upon seeing Peter's confused stare, Wally shrugged. "What? I like booths."

Robin chose that moment to walk in, wearing...

"DUDE, is that a PONCHO?"

"Shuddup." the black-haired boy grumbled, awkwardly balling his fists in the waterproof material and looking distinctly not 'gruntled.' If only Batman had figured out a way to fit a hoodie in his utility belt. Or something. Honestly, he was just lucky he had an extra pair of sunglasses in there too. Otherwise, he'd probably have to answer a few questions if he walked into any public place in his domino masks.

Peter did not understand these two...all alternate dimension weirdness aside, they were strange. Even if one of them _could _teleport. Peter also, unfortunately, couldn't restrain a small giggl-no, snicker, even though he knew it was rude, when Zorro came in wearing a poncho. It was one of the clearest and warmest nights it had been in a spell. He quickly returned his facial expression to as neutral as possible.

"Sorry. That was mean." He swallowed and looked to the waiter, who was impatiently waiting for them to follow him. Peter obliged, though he felt a little nervous putting Wally and Poncho-Zorro at his back. He really needed to snag an outer seat, just in case, you know...things happened. Also, he needed to answer his phone so Aunt May could stop worrying so much. And just be mad. Crap, this was going to be a long night.

For the briefest moment, Robin looked livid behind his sunglasses. Then his face cleared a bit and he looked away, muttering, "It's fine. I'd have laughed."

Still. He was going to need a wardrobe change, pronto.

Wally had gotten them all a _booth_, of all things, but on second thought - that may very well work in their favor. In a low-key, passive aggressive kind of way. Peter had tried to run off before, and putting him next to the wall with KF on the other side of him would effectively keep him pinned in the public place. Unless he was the sort to cause a scene - but that didn't seem likely based on what Robin had seen so far.

As they all squirmed and shoved themselves into the little cubby, (the spider guy looking none too pleased!) Robin discreetly took his Gauntlets off under the table, leaving fingerless glove-type bit on his left hand to ensure his wrist computer would be kept on him at all times. It might look a little weird, but he was already well accomplished in that department with the poncho and indoor sunglasses.

Aaaand now he had _I Wear My Sunglasses At Night _going through his head. That was just great.

The waiter came by, a tall Indian guy with earrings. He gave them menus and glasses of water, his eyes just barely lingering on the youngest.

"Namaste," Robin greeted warmly, and the waiter gave a hesitant smile in return.

"Namaste, young sirs. What may I prepare for you this evening?"

Without looking at the menu Robin rattled off, "We'll have two dishes of the Tikka Masala, five sides of Bhindi Masala, six baskets of garlic naan, six Paneer Pakora, three Saag Paneer, two Subzi Vindaloo, four Lamb Vindaloo, Shrimp Biryani, four orders of Lahsooni Kabab, extra rice for all of those, and..."

He squinted, counting on his fingers before sending Wally a questioning look. Wally nodded, looking like he was going to start drooling any second now.

"...the assorted bread basket, six Kheers, Five Kulfis, and, um...can you just, uh, bring the whole pitcher of water? Or maybe two? I'll pay extra..."

The waiter's jaw had dropped by the end, and a few other waiters had stopped by and were doing the same.

"Ohhhh daal main kuch kala hain." the waiter muttered, shaking his head.

(**Ohhh this one has a black lentil in it - hindi equivalent of oh crap)**

"Ungli mat kar," Robin said apologetically.

(**Please don't ask questions)**

The waiter pursed his lips. "aapake paas dher saara paisa hai?"

**(Do you have money for this?)**

"Haan main karata hoon. Main ek arabapati ka beta hoon aur main apane doston ke saath bhojan kar raha hoon."

**(Yes, I do. I am the son of a billionaire and I am taking my friends out to dinner). **

"Aur tumhaare kapadon ka kya?"

(**And what about your clothing?)**

Robin looked a bit sheepish, grinning in embarrassment. "Mere doston ne mujhe ek phavvaare mein dhakel diya aur main ghar jaakar badalana nahin chaahata tha."

(**My friends pushed me into a fountain and I did not want to go home and change) **

The waiter seemed satisfied but still looked puzzled. "Kya aap sunishchit hain ki aap yah sab kha sakate hain?"

**(Are you sure you can eat all this?)**

Robin laughed, pointing a finger at Wally. "Usake paas bhaarateey haathee ka pet hai. Kuchh nahin bachega."

**(He has the stomach of an Indian elephant. Nothing will survive.) **

All the waiters visibly relaxed, a couple of them even chuckling. In English, the first waiter announced to all three, "It is done then! You shall feast this night and we shall have payment for a new roof! Tumhen aasheervaad dete hain!"

They scurried away looking decidedly gleeful and Robin started moving all the table decor to the far end.

Peter was squished between the wall and Wally. Poncho-Zorro had just ordered a crap-ton of food with names he could never hope to pronounce (if he had gotten a C in Spanish, Indian had to be _so _much worse). Poncho-Zorro had been speaking fluently in _freaking Indian_, and now Peter felt like _he _was the one who had just fallen into an alternate dimension.

"So..." he said, his voice a little weak. Was it getting hot in here? Why did he feel so hot? Surely Mr. Stark had some kind of radar that picked up on huge spikes of weirdness on earth because he was pretty sure this was a weirdness emergency. "You...come here often?" Of course it was a dumb thing to ask-they'd never been here before!-but Peter felt hopelessly helpless right now, and his dumb mouth was not making things any easier. He really needed to just put his head down and think for a second, but he didn't need to look weak. Nope. No weakness...no...weakness. He'd dealt with a collapsed building-he'd deal with these guys. Mr. Stark had probably dealt with weirder, so he could too.

Yep.

He could handle this.

_Please let the food come soon..._

Wally was viciously devouring the entire little tray of lentil chips and tiny sauces, somehow managing to get tablespoon-fulls of the stuff on his chips. Around a mouthful he ground out, "Mff...y'kidding m'? B take 'im out for Ind'an 'least three times'a _month._"

"Four," Robin corrected automatically, neatly unfolding his napkin across his lap. His best friend might have the table manners of a starving raccoon in a bakery, but _he _couldn't help but feel like Alfred would be feeling the disappointment across entire dimensions if he did the same. "and only because we're keeping an eye on one of the managers."

"Oh yeah _surrrre _that's th' only reason." Wally said sarcastically, now drumming his fingers on the table at a borderline inhuman speed, anxiously looking around for the waiters.

"Before our food gets here, let's clear some things up;" Robin said quietly, leaning forward at Peter to keep the conversation private. His sunglasses were made to be dark enough that even this close, no one would be able to make out his eyes.

"You can call me Robin, and this is Kid Flash. Or Wally, since he's out of costume. I'm assuming your civvy name is Peter something and your superhero name is 'Spiderman,' which means you have powers. Judging by the quick chem scan I ran on a bit of webbing I lifted from Wally's hoodie, you seem to be able to shoot an enhanced version of spider webbing from some sort of device you've disguised as a watch. At first, I thought perhaps _that _was why you called yourself Spiderman and that you were like me in that regard, but upon further observation I've decided you're enhanced in the physical aspect too - like increased agility and strength based on how you caught KF over there."

Robin paused. "How am I doing so far?"

"Uh...wha...er...eh...mmf?"

"It's annoying, isn't it?" Wally whispered conspiratorially, breathing crumbs into Peter's ear.

Peter slapped at his ear, very slowly and dazedly, in response. _Wow, _he thought numbly. _That food smells even stronger than I thought_.

"Spider-bite," he said absentmindedly. He picked up a chip, examined it, and then popped it into his mouth. Huh. Spicy. Unexpected, but not bad. He looked to get some sauce to put on it, but there was none left. He looked back at Robin. What was he supposed to say now? He felt like his entire identity had just been thrown out of his backpack, blown up in his face, and then dissected right in front of him.

Somehow that just made sense.

Robin felt his jaw drop a little. He briefly wondered if he would get flying abilities if he allowed himself to get pecked by a Robin or something in this dimension. "That's...well, that's kind of whelming. But hey, I'm not judging. I know someone who got _their _powers from mixing up things in test tubes and blew up their garage."

"Hey! You're just jealous!"

"I don't see _you _taking down League members."

"Ya, well if my mentor was _The Freakin' Batman _I'd probably take down waayyy more!"

"Meh."

"Nnhh."

Robin shook his head and was about to plop his head down on the table when a gloriously steaming plate of hot white rice was set down before him. As if by magic, more plates and pots and griddles of roasted meat and vegetables started filling up the table. One of the waiters was dragging an extra table full of more food to the side and Wally looked like he was about to have an aneurism out of sheer delight. He'd probably start clapping his hands, next. Garlic naan and a savory lamb curry was set in front of Peter, and Robin giggled when the teen's eyes widened to the point of looking as though they would pop out of his head.

Peter shook his head and briefly wondered if The Freakin' Batman was the alternate dimension Iron Man. Did things _actually _work like that? He kinda doubted it was, like, some kind of Matrix thing. Maybe something more along the lines of _Stranger Things_, or even...Phineas and Ferb? He shook his head and zeroed back on the food, which was rapidly disappearing. Wally was _fast_. Wait...what?

He awkwardly spooned some rice and the...bright lumpy stuff onto his plate.

"Ok, ok, ok...lemme get this straight. You're Robin, he's Wally (uh, Kid Flash or KF?), and you come from a different...dimension. Somehow you know stuff about me that you shouldn't, you're freakishly creepy for not even being...in...high school yet (are you? Sorry, actually, never mind), and there are...penguins running around (I heard both of you mention that earlier)?" Peter took a hesitant bite of his odd mixture and nearly jumped out of his seat at just how flavorful it was. His heightened senses were reeling for some reason. He winced at the sensory overload, but a small part of him really really really liked it.

He shoveled in another bite. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until now, and he had no time to lose considering the fact that several dishes had already been cleaned out by his booth-mate over there.

Feeling a little calmer now that he had something to occupy his often overactive mouth (and May had finally stopped calling every thirty seconds), he faced Robin and took a deep, aromatic breath. How had he never tried Indian before?! Ned _had _to come here some time.

"Right. And as a matter of fact I _am _in high school...freshman - "

"Don' le' 'im fool ya, he might be a few gr'des 'head but 'e's only thir' een."

"Shut up and _chew your food." _Robin snapped, mildly upset that such privy information had been divulged. "Anyway, sorry about the creepiness. It's all part of my...superpower. I had to be sure you were one of the good guys, and to be quite honest I'm still not quite a hundred percent on that one yet, but don't take it personally. Also, you eat it like this - "

He took a piece of the naan and scooped up some of the curry, neatly folding it before handing it to Peter.

"American utensils are completely overrated. I know so much about you because I'm just an observant person and trained to know stuff everyone else overlooks. As for the Penguin - he's a villain from my dimension. He's the reason we're here, actually. I was on patrol and tried to stop him when he got sucked into what seemed to be some sort of extra-dimensional point-to-point Einstein-Rosen bridge converted to serve as an interdimensional gateway through the use of a quantum parallelogrammic ray. At least, that's all I got of it before Kid Clumsy over here flew into us and sent us through the portal."

Allowing the other two to process the info dump, Robin lifted his own naan and took a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness of the yogurt sauce and tandoori chicken. He chewed a moment then swallowed.

"That's why we fell from the sky. Apparently, the skyscraper we were on hasn't been built in this dimension. The Penguin got away with what looked like an entire bundle of his umbrellas - highly specialized weapons he developed to look like an innocent rain repellent. The Penguin is one of Gotham's smarter villains - he's not as...crazy...as the rest, but if I know him at all, he'll start off by targeting local mobs and integrating himself all the way to the top. We need to find out what he's up to. Also, does this dimension have The Light?"

Wow. Peter couldn't help but think that this Robin guy was surprisingly concise and thorough when explaining stuff. Everything made a lot more sense now...except for the part about using the buttery, garlicky bread to eat the rice stuff. Really, if you thought about it, it just made the process of eating a whole lot messier than necessary. He tried it anyway, though. It made him cringe again. It was just adding another five or so flavors to the original five hundred that his taste buds weren't physically prepared for right now.

He took a moment to process Robin's second spill, and then he took a sip of his water. Aw, man, that helped.

"The Light? Uh...no? I've never heard of any Light thing, " Peter said, happy to note that his voice didn't come out so confused this time. "We do have Hydra. But that's a long story," he added, quickly. He didn't know much about Hydra himself, so he wasn't sure he'd be able to tell that long story anyway. He suddenly remembered what had excited him so much about Robin's first spill, and he sat up straighter, food momentarily forgotten.

"Wait...did you say Einstein-Rosen bridge earlier? Quantum parallelogrammic rays? Man, those things are great. I studied the Jacobian matrix and determinant a little while back, when I was...er...going through a phase. In fact, did you know that when I was about eleven, I think, one of those things opened up right in the middle of New York City?"

Peter was on an excited tangent now. He'd become obsessed with this stuff right after the Avengers got big in 2012.

"Mr. Stark was there, and Captain America (I met him once, by the way), and so was...wait." He stopped. He had forgotten they probably had no idea who these people were. A bit deflated, he took another sip of water and sighed, rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, never mind. Sorry. I...uh...I'm surprised there hasn't been more damage done than there was. Those things, at least here, are supposed to be pretty unstable. Has anything ever...happened like this before?"

Wally finished his thirteenth plate of food, eyeing the last quarter of bhindi masala left on the other side of Peter. "Captain America? Sounds like a comic book character. Yeah the physiological effects of any carbon-based matter passing through a Jacobian matrix without the aid of some sort of stimulant designed to combat the subatomic particles' tendency to completely unravel the double helix strand can basically make you disintegrate as soon as you try to use the Quantum parallelogrammic ray - "

" - Which is why in our dimension, Wayne-tech was the first to develop a counter function to the Vector value to quantisize the the energy of the wave-particle duality resulting in complete stability as the micro drones basically attach to cells and cement them within the appropriate reality field - completing the steps and rules for the Correspondence Principle. I don't know if you have anything like that here, but if they were unstable and of Alien origin, the aliens likely didn't know the basics of that and instead relied on particle accelerators to vibrate the mass." Robin finished, drawing a breath and taking in the stacks upon stacks of dishes - all but licked clean. "So who is this Stark fellow? And Captain America? Are they the Avengers? Are you an Avenger? Can you..." he paused dramatically, fully relishing in the moment. Wally grinned appreciatively when he caught on. "...take me to your leader?"

"Dude, next time _I _get to say it." Wally whispered excitedly.

All conversation paused for a moment as the waiter came back with the bill - a heavy looking stack of paper on the sleek black booklet.

"That'll be four-hundred and sixty-three dollars and seventy-six cents, plus tax."

Everyone in the restaurant, at this point heavily invested in the outcome of this unusual circumstance, watched with bated breath as Robin withdrew something from under his poncho. It was a tiny black and gold credit card that he promptly handed over, barely sparing the waiter a glance. Taking the pen and a receipt that reached nearly to the floor, he signed _Ricardo Van-Hussen _and left a tip of two hundred and fifty. The waiters' eyes glinted and he bowed once before leaving.

"So anyway, we're gonna need to know about these 'Avengers' and whether or not they can help us."

Peter had nodded at the end of Wally's spill (and also passed him the last bowl of lumpy stuff when he saw how the other teenager was practically drooling for it), and he wanted to say something in response (he as glad there was actually someone his age he could discuss this junk with), but Robin wanted to know some stuff about the Avengers. Considering that was yet another topic he could rattle on about for a good while, he would humor the younger boy, but only with those other thoughts on _hold_. Not gone.

He'd grinned at the last question and opened his mouth to reply when the waiter had arrived

_CrapcrapcrapcrapCRAP_..._four-hundred and sixty-three plus dollars?!_ Peter gulped, grin gone. Was Robin really that rich? That was like...Tony Stark level rich, man! He ducked his head somewhat sheepishly until the transaction was finished and then took a deep breath, finally ready and able to answer.

"Ok, I might have been giving you some misconceptions about the Avengers. You see...they _were _Earth's mightiest heroes-like, mighty _mighty _heroes. In 2012, like I mentioned earlier, they did all this stuff and saved New York. Probably saved the world a couple of times, too." He shrugged and wiped a shower of brightly colored crumbs off of his lap. He'd forgotten to put his napkin down there. "Anyway...not long ago, they broke up. I was actually there when it officially happened, but..." he bit the inside of his cheek. He _really _wanted to tell that story again (to someone he knew who _hadn't _heard it yet), but he figured now probably wasn't the best time. "That's another story."

Whew. For some reason, hearing that horrifically large bill made him thirstier. He also felt a little droopier for some reason-no doubt it was related to the large amounts of rice and...Hobby Lobby-smelling-stuff he had consumed. He continued. "Sorry. That's probably too much useless information. The fact is, all the AVengers are still out there (I think...I mean, some of them kinda dropped off the radar 'cause of legal stuff), but they're a little scattered. If this Penguin dude turns out to be a big baddie, like, big enough to threaten the world, then they might reband, but who knows. The main players are Captain America, Iron Man (otherwise known as Mr-I mean, _Tony _Stark, the Hulk (big green guy-you should see him sometime), Thor (he's basically some old Norse god), the Black Widow, and sometimes this guy named Hawkeye. He shoots arrows. Captain America, Black Widow, and we assume the Hulk are off somewhere, and then, uh, Iron Man is here. Thor's in his home or whatever, and Hawkeye is off-grid."

Peter took yet another deep breath.

"Also, I'm not an Avenger," he said, though he desperately wanted to add that he had the option to be. "And I don't really have a leader. I'm just the friendly neighborhood..." he looked around, remembering that he was in a public place, and then shrugged. "You know. But Mr. Stark, he does help me out sometimes. He gave me my suit, and he's really rich and really smart and even though he's a little bit snarky (some people say he's arrogant), he's a good..." Peter trailed off, frowning. What was Mr. Stark to him? It felt wrong to say mentor, and it felt wrong to say friend. He was simply Mr. Stark. "He's a good superhero."

He sat back. He hadn't been expecting to say so much. He wondered how late it was now.

Wally was openly gaping with a look somewhere in between horrified and ridiculously excited, but Robin merely sank back into his seat a little, staring at Peter intently. Even before Batman's training, he had a certain knack for reading body language and discerning people's motives, and this kid was telling the truth. Or at least he honestly thought he was. Still...

"It sounds like the Avengers are pretty much your dimension's version of a less-organized Justice League. Although, Thor...wow. Is he the real deal? A Norse god? I mean, we've had some similar experiences back home and we've got our fair share of aliens but...wow. And nah, you're good man. No information is useless."

That last part came automatically - how many times had Bruce ground that into his head?

_Bruce._

Not until his hunger had been satiated and he was sitting in the warm confines of a booth in an other-dimensional Indian restaurant talking to a kid who had spider powers did the implications of where they were at fully hit him. Robin felt his heart rate speed up and he attempted to control his breathing, shutting his eyes briefly and clenching his fists. He couldn't break down now. Not yet. He had to be strong. He had to step up and continue taking the lead or both he and Wally could end up in some _seriously _bad trouble. Like, even more serious than this. But what could he do? It could take _months, _maybe even _years _to build any sort of device that could return them home, and that was assuming he had the material and facilities to do so! And...

"Wait...did you say 2012? Um, what year is it now?"

Peter felt a little pride at the way Wally seemed excited (at least partially) and how Robin, even if he did say something about disorganization, seemed impressed with at least one part of the Avengers. There was enough bad blood going around regarding the Sokovia Accords and all that jazz that it was nice to get an outsider's view on the stuff. Even if he was a superhero himself.

He was a little concerned, however, at the very faint and almost indiscernible traces of panic-or maybe that was too strong of a word...maybe concern-that the younger kid was showing. That little bit of _concern _seemed to sneak into his own mind, too, when Robin asked what year it was. That was a bad sign.

"It's...2017. Why? Is that different from what it was where you come from?"

Robin paled visibly. "That...that's not good. That makes this whole thing at least seven years more difficult."

Wally, who had been patting his stomach (which was, oddly, still completely flat) and sighing in contentment, shot up in his seat. "Wait, what? Why?"

The black haired boy shook his head, bracing his elbows against the table and letting his head drop in his hands. He dug his fingers into his hair and yanked at it. "Because anyone from _our _side is going to assume we merely dimension hopped, yet remained in the same time and place. Something over _here _must have affected Penguin's Portal device and messed up the _timestream _as well. In essence,"

He looked up again, hesitating to instill any of the rising panic he himself felt in his best friend.

"no one from home is going to find us. We're on our own, Wally."

Peter watched the somewhat pitiful interaction, trying to be as still and inconspicuous as possible. When Robin said they were on their own, he felt a little flare of something akin to indignation. These guys dropped into _his _neighborhood, and seeing as he was, of course, the friendly neighborhood Spiderman, there was no reason he shouldn't try everything in his power to get them back to their own dimension. He had no idea how to do that, but he knew what it felt like to have everything seem completely hopeless (sometimes he still thought he felt the crushing weight of that building on top of him). He sat up straighter in the booth and faced his two new companions with a newfound confidence.

"Hey, look you two. This probably isn't _that_ bad. I mean, yeah, it's probably bad, and no one on your side might know what happened," he paused. This wasn't turning out like he'd hoped. "But I do know you're not on your own." He leaned forward to whisper this last part, still nervous despite the fact that the restaurant had cleared out considerably in the past few minutes after all the drama had passed with the bill. "I'm the friendly neighborhood Spiderman!" He leaned back triumphantly, not sure how they were going to take it. He did feel like something was missing in his shot at an inspirational speech (he'd heard that Captain America did it way better).

"Plus, I know Mr. Stark. He'll know what to do."

Robin fiddled with his sleeve, considering. He needed to think. He needed to go over the files he'd gathered by hacking into this mysterious Mr. Stark's tower through Peter's phone (he was feeling a little guilty about that, now). What had started out as a typical night of patrol had turned into a living nightmare and worse, he'd dragged Wally into all this. The redhead had grasped the severity of the situation at both Robin and Peter's words and was looking dazed, and tired. How long had they even been up? According to their biological clocks? Here, it was close to one in the morning and in Gotham it had been two.

Either way, they'd both been up for a fair bit.

"Th-thanks. I mean, considering we literally fell on top of you, or at least Kid Weight over here did, you've already helped a lot just by not freaking out."

What else could he say? Robin had noticed the expression Peter got when he'd said they were on their own - the kid knew loss. It was evident. Somehow, that tiny tidbit comforted the acrobat. Maybe Peter was right and they wouldn't be on their own through this. And if the teen's trust in Stark's abilities were in any way founded, maybe...just maybe they could make it back home. Alfred would be shaking his head and Bruce would probably bench him for a week or two, but just the thought of seeing their faces again would make it all worth it. It had been five years since...that is, it barely felt like he'd had his new family (team included!) for very long, and he was _not _about to lose them too.

"Yeah, Petey-boy, you're a pretty chill guy." Wally said reluctantly, although he was smiling. Either his superspeed had allowed him to quickly get over any anxiety at being stranded in an alternate dimension, or he was just being his usual self and failing to take anything around him completely seriously. Maybe a bit of both. "Is that like a spider thing, too? Or - "

Whatever the speedster had been about to say was cut short when the door of the restaurant was violently broken down and black, kevlar-covered agents in helmets began pouring into the room, wielding deadly-looking guns and sporting the acronym S.H.I.E.L.D in white across their backs. The other diners all began screaming and shoving at each other, trying to get away from what looked to be a clear threat and generally causing a scene of utter chaos.

* * *

**Okay, so that was a pretty long chapter... Hopefully it was entertaining, at least ;) Poor Peter, this is turning out to be a long night for the Spider-guy...unfortunately for him (and fortunately for us! Mwahaha!), it's about to get longer. ^.^ Are there any particular interactions you guys want to see? **


	5. Of Speedsters and Women

Before his mind had even caught up with him, Robin threw the offending poncho off and leapt onto the table, assessing the situation in a split second and throwing smoke pellets from one hand into the fast moving throng of agents, and another pellet that when burst, created a blinding white flash of light that would have the possible enemies seeing stars for at least a few minutes.

"KF! MANEUVER SEVEN!" he screamed, cartwheeling into a flip off the table as the air suddenly became full of what might have been gunfire, but more resembled concentrated lasers. Wally grabbed Peter's arm and yanked him out of the booth before picking him up bodily and zooming out the back door, barely able to see through the thick grey smoke Robin had created. The acrobat himself followed closely behind, grapeling away and attempting to keep up with the speedster by rooftop. Neither knew where they were going, of course, but anywhere was better than _here. _

Peter would have liked to hold on to any warm, fuzzy feelings he might have had, but S.H.I.E.L.D. showing up was most definitely not a very warm, fuzzy feeling inducer.

Robin reacted quickly, jumping onto the table, yelling something at Kid..._darn_...Kid...Fast? Was that it? Anyway, _Wally_, and then bounding into some sort of cartwheel or something. He only had the briefest of moments to snatch his backpack, where his precious suit was stowed, before Wally actually picked him up (that was embarrassing...) and then they were off, teleporting. Although, the more he thought about it, the less it really looked like teleporting and more like...speed? Ohhhh. Right. Kid Fast. It made sense now. No wonder Wally had blushed, looking annoyed, when he had said all that stuff about teleportation.

Well, either way, who knew where they were headed. Peter just hoped they stopped somewhere soon; his heightened senses were not amused, he was tired, and he knew without a doubt now that Mr. Stark was going to get involved. How could he _not _when S.H.I.E.L.D. had already picked up on something and come to investigate?

Maybe Robin was right on that count at least: they were in big, big trouble. 

* * *

The cool air of the night felt familiar as ever on Robin's face, but that was the only thing. Adrenaline surged through his tired limbs, propelling him forward and over rooftops and around buildings. He tried to stick low and to the shadows in case these shield people brought a helicopter with a spotlight or something, and it was only with great difficulty he could make out the dark red blur of KF zipping through the streets below.

Now would have been a _reaaallly_ great time to have M'gann's mind link to communicate.

Grunting, he put on every last ounce of speed he had and dropped to the ground, breaking the fall with a roll that transitioned smoothly into a sprint. "KF! R-REGROUP!" he called out, and the speedster skidded to a stop, cursing a little when the non-metahuman-designed sneakers left the pungent smell of burnt rubber in the air.

Poor Peter looked about as calm and collected as to be expected.

"H-how..." Robin paused to restore some of the breath in his lungs, his chest heaving. This was _so_ not good for his digestion. "...how far is it t-to ..your house?" he wheezed, suddenly realizing that not only had his sunglasses managed to stay on his face, but he'd been fighting the new guys with them on.

Wow. That had to have looked very _uncool._

Peter was more than grateful when Wally stopped, but he did have to take a few stumbling steps before he could actually stand upright. Even then, however, he felt dangerously close to losing every bit of that oddly colorful and very strong Indian food. He had no doubt it would be so much worse on his poor taste buds coming back up.

He managed to focus back on Robin, who looked like he had just run a marathon (and was still somehow wearing his sunglasses; thankfully, the lack of a poncho made up for it somewhat). He caught the tail end of his question and struggled to reply. He didn't know this part of the city very well, apparently, although that crooked fire hydrant looked vaguely familiar. "Uh...I don't really know how far we traveled. Or what direction we traveled in," he croaked, words a little slurred. Talk about jet lag. He glanced around them again. "It probably isn't far...I'd know more if I was up high."

But they didn't have time for that. He could get Karen's help but something told him that Robin probably had tech that could do a lot of the same things as her.

"What if I just gave you my address?"

Nevermind May was probably there, beside herself with worry. Nevermind the fact that Peter was SO in for it. Nevermind the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D (!) was in his city and on their ( well, mainly Robin and Wally's) trail.

Robin swallowed, fumbling around in his utility belt a moment before turning his face away and replacing the glasses with his mask. He felt a bit more complete with it on and instantly some of his anxiety melted away. He took another deep breath, his heartbeat gradually returning to normal. "Yeah. That'll work."

"You're not going to ask him for his... Street name?" Wally stage-whispered, earning him a grin and even a snort.

"Can't be as good as mine, so nah."

Despite wearing a confused look, Peter being to rattle off his address. Robin listened intently before pulling his holoscreen up and swiping at the blue filtered air. He squinted. "Let's see...mm...riiiiiiight - there! Okay, your house is about three miles east by rooftop, five on foot."

"Sweet bed, my body is ready." Wally muttered dramatically, inspecting the bottoms of his shoes. The edges were half-melted. "My shoes can take it but I doubt they'll last anymore than that. You gonna be good, man?

"Does Green lantern have a hidden collection of rubber ducks under his bathtub?"

"Right. See ya in a few."

Wally squinted at the holoscreen, memorizing the directions (he kept telling people he was smart but for some reason they never believed him!), then prepared to pick Peter up once more.

"Oh - and before I forget," Robin spoke up, turning off the map. "your...er, Aunt May doesn't have to know we're there if you don't want. We can keep quiet and stay low. I can even tie up Kid Loud over here if you want..."

"Hey!"

Peter smiled wanly (and perhaps still confusedly) at the interaction between the two friends. It reminded him of himself and Ned goofing off (sometimes MJ, of course, but she mostly just sat watching them with a pained smirk). When it came time to leave, though, and Wally prepared to zip off with him, he held up a hand and stepped back slightly. Very quickly. He was NOT going to go through that again.

"Uh...May's gonna be mad either way," he said, addressing Robin. "So I might just present you two as corroboration for...whatever you guys figure is a safe enough story to tell her. She might, you know, go a little easier on me while you two are around, buy me a little time." Not that that relief would last for long, he thought. He couldn't read Robin's face in the dark and with the mask on, but he didn't want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than the situation required. He shrugged. "That is, unless you want to stay low."

Peter turned quickly to Wally while he let Robin think about it.

"Also...uh...KF (I dunno if you're OK with me calling you that or not, so, sorry), if you don't mind, I might just swing my own way home." His words were rushed and he felt heat in his face for some reason, but he pushed ahead and, swinging his backpack to one arm, peeled it open. He extracted his mask and put it on, just in case he ran into some S.H.I.E.L.D. guys or something and needed to make an anonymous getaway. He held two thumbs up (quite awkwardly) and breathed the familiar tech/sub sandwich tinted air of his suit. "Cool?"

Wally blew out a sigh of relief. "Aw, dude, you have no idea how happy you just made me. You're so much heavier than Rob." As if realizing what he just said, the redhead's face began to match his ears. "Wait...that came out totally wrong. I'm not saying you're fat! You're just, like, uh... dense? Wait, not like stupid just... thick? Wait, no - "

"Wally. Stop." Robin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Truth be told, he too was glad Peter would rather swing back himself, seeing as his own legs were rather tired and a piggyback ride sounded awesome. "I take it your Aunt knows about your little arachnid alqadia, so...hmm."

For the second time that night, Robin wished he had some civvies on him somewhere. He could always borrow KF's sweater, but that raised the question of whether or not their hero status should be exposed.

And what about a cover story? They would likely need one anyway at some point...A moment's thought later and Robin grinned suddenly.

"Okay, so Wally here and I are foster brothers. We just moved into town and go to your school and you befriended us when Wally got shoved into the toilet by bullies ("hey!). When you were walking back home we called you because our foster parents' house caught on fire and we have no place to stay, and you came over and like, comforted us or whatever and we walked back with you. Wally's in shock because he can't act worth a hoot so Wally, wear a vacant expression and don't talk much (yes, I know that last part will be harder than the first). I'll turn on the waterworks and say I'm wearing the sunglasses because I have Achromoatopsia and it was especially aggravated by the fire. Sound good?"

Peter was glad that he had his mask on now. He wouldn't have had a clue what face to make at Wally's tongue-tripping. He had understood what the other teen had said the very first time, although he could see how easily it could have been misinterpreted, but now the whole thing was a mess. He was saved trying to reply to any of it by Robin (thankfully), and so he just stood there awkwardly until Robin came out with his plan.

Upon hearing it, he gave it a bit of thought. Maybe he was overthinking it or maybe he just didn't want to have to deal with the all the little details he was going to have to clean up regarding what Aunt May thought about the whole situation, but he wasn't just terribly happy. Not that he could think of anything better, especially that quickly. Who knew where S.H.I.E.L.D. was now anyway? He frowned beneath the mask and tried to be both polite and also sound like he knew what he was talking about.

"I'm not sure if she'll buy it, honestly. I mean, it's legit and all...but why would so much time have passed, and what about your foster parents?" he scratched an itch on his upper arm and shuffled his feet. He was feeling jittery despite the fact that the adrenaline from the S.H.I.E.L.D. escapade had all but worn off. He thought about whether or not Aunt May might have fallen asleep and whether or not Mr. Stark knew about the fact that he was "missing." Oh, what a tangled web he'd woven.

Before he'd really given Robin enough time to adequately considered the situation, he took a leap of faith (thank gosh he was in his mask) and suggested something that was probably just a _tad _audacious considering he knew virtually nothing about these guys. "Or...what about the truth? At least part of it, maybe...?"

Once again, Robin found himself studying the teenager in front of him, his face now obscured by a strange, webbed mask with domino lenses that nearly matched his own. Also like him, Peter seemed to draw confidence from hiding his face. Sure, the whole 'fire at the fosters' story _was _a little holey, but what it lacked in solidity could be more than made up for with good acting and creating fake information to be looked up. "The truth is usually weirder than a lie," he began, feeling less than concerted at the fact that what he was about to say next sounded _exactly _like something Batman would say. He did not want to be Batman. "and I'm sorry, but however much _you _may trust your aunt, _we _don't. If you can give me one good reason to trust her, there'll be no cover stories."

Beside him, Wally looked over incredulously. "Oh, c'mon Rob! You're being ridiculous, Peter has a point."

"It's not ridiculous, it's _careful!" _Robin snapped back, feeling just a tiny bit betrayed. Wally _knew _he had a double dose of trust issues when it came to adults and secret identities.

"Make like a doorknob and get a handle on it!"

"Get a - _dude, _you're being totally _not _asterous right now."

"Says you!"

"Gee, Wally, what are you - three or something?"

Peter frowned under his mask at the brief little clash between his two companions. Yeah, he was disappointed, and yeah, it stunk that he was going to have to do a _lot _of explaining and who knew what else to help Aunt May cope with all this stuff, but he understood. Sort of. And he didn't like being the cause of anyone having words with each other. He held up a hand.

"Ok, guys. It's fine, really. I can't give you any reason to trust her besides me word, and I get that I haven't really know you enough to, you know...allow you to trust me or whatever. Let's just get home," je yawned, hoping he had at least somewhat diffused the situation for the moment. "I only ask that you allow me to be the one who knocks on the door..."

"Wouldn't want it any other way," Robin muttered under his breath, causing Wally to poke him in the side.

"Seriously, man. You've been a great help and you didn't have to," the redhead said earnestly, shifting his weight on one foot. "Robby boy here is just tired 'cause it's way past his bedtime."

"...of the two of us, who actually has a curfew?"

"Shh...Spiderbaby here doesn't know that..." Wally whispered loudly, grinning. He winked at Peter. "I'll be waiting for you slowpokes at the house! Outofsightofcoursedon'tworryBYE!"

And with that, the speedster was gone, nothing but a swirl of wind and the faint smell of curry left to say he'd ever been there. Robin nodded, looking a bit stiff, then disappeared almost as quickly by the time the friendly-neighborhood Spiderman had blinked. Peter slumped a little. He wasn't one to grumble, normally, but he was really tired, and that chemistry exam hadn't completely slipped his mind. Plus, he wasn't sure if they still had any air mattresses at the apartment.

Without another word, he shot a web into the night, pulled himself into a leap, and was off. Just the friendly 3 AM neighborhood Spiderman, at your service.

* * *

Wallace Rudolph West skidded to a halt just outside a cozy-looking apartment building on 15th Street. The lights on the lower level were still on, which he realized probably didn't bode well for poor Peter. Or them. There was a fire escape outside what was probably Peter's room, though - Robin would like that. Sighing, he sat down on the curb and drew his hood over his head. Being a speedster was _hard _when you had to wait for everyone else.

_Oh crap, I forgot to give Rob a ride...eh, he was being a little turd anyway. Still...we probably shouldn't separate. _

Wally's stomach began to growl and he groaned.

_Gimme a BREAK. Actually, make that a break-fast-bar, 'cause I ain't getting any younger over here._

* * *

Peter reached his front door in a few minutes. He approached it cautiously, deciding not to say anything to Wally sitting on the curb over there. Robin was nowhere in sight, so Peter assumed he was running a little behind. That was all good, though. The less people present for this encounter, the better. He only wished he could be one of the ones absent.

Steeling his nerves and calming the little maelstrom his spidey senses were creating (or was it just nerves? In cases like these, it was hard to tell), he stepped up to the door, inhaled deeply, and only got one knock in. He also got only one thought in, which was: _oh, no, my mask is still on!_

May had flung open the door, and there she was, in all her puffy-eyed (_AHNOMAYIMSOSORRYPLEASEWHY)_ glory. She stood there for about a trillionth of a second, and Peter, like the idiot he was, raised a hand and wiggled his fingers ever so slightly.

"Hey...May..."

"Peter. Benjamin. PARKER!" Peter winced, and May put her hands on her hips, her face lit up somewhat crazily by the dim front lighting. "I'm going to ask this first question, and you better be honest or there's going to be h*** to pay."

Peter's spidey senses kicked up about ten notches. May rarely used strong language, and when she did...well, he was always at _severe _fault when she did. He waited with bated breath, aware of Wally not far from them and also aware that the mask was serving as his only protection right now.

"Are you hurt?"

Peter swallowed and felt the stab of guilt all the way down his throat and into his stomach. He shook his head and found his voice.

"No, May. I promise. I'm so sorry, I really am; I just-"

May grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a super tight hug, crushing his face against her chest. He felt her trembling, and he really, really, really wanted to just scream his _sorries _to the sky until she forgave him and all her panic and anxiety from the past hours was erased. When she finally pushed him away, an entire eternity later, she grabbed his mask and ripped it off, casting it behind her like it was a piece of junk. He couldn't meet her eyes.

"Now. You better explain yourself. And it better be _really _good."

Peter swallowed again, blinked to clear the moisture that had mysteriously gathered in his own eyes. When he tried to force his throat muscles to form a word, they only convulsed.

_Now. Now would really be a good time for one of my buddies to show up_, he thought, opening his mouth and then closing it again. May's glare was beginning to sting.

* * *

Even though he saw it all from a distance, Wally couldn't help but feel a little touched at the site of 'May' hugging the ever-living _goodness _out of Peter. In a way, she reminded him a bit of his own Aunt Iris, except without the red hair and a little more librarian-looking.

Also, she was _hot._

Standing from his little sit-down on the curb, the redhead tried to inconspicuously brush off the seat of his pants before reaching up to muss his hair a little. Chicks dug the whole wind-swept thing, but he'd decided a few weeks ago that adding a little of the 'tousled factor' would make him that much sexier. He smirked and walked up beside Peter, grinning at the supermegafoxy face that was level with his own (oooh pretty brown eyes!). Being who he was, all statements of caution his younger friend had spoken that night had flown away in terror from his teenage hormones.

"Heya, May, is it? I'm Wally West, I've got super-speed, and you, honey, can figure out the rest."

He winked for added effect. 

* * *

**NEXT TIME, ON WWDMTC: WILL PETER DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT? WILL MAY FREAK OUT? WILL WALLY EVER CONQUER HIS HORMONES? WILL ROB TEAM UP WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA AND MONITOR EVERYONE'S LANGUAGE? **

**Ahem. **

**All jokes aside (or are they? Mwahaha!), we thank you NotSweetSkills0112943 and icedshadows for your lovely reviews! My co-writer could hardly believe anyone's been reading this XD **


	6. This Sleepover Is Kind Of a Nightmare

May blinked at the newcomer. Peter's mouth dropped open. _What happened to the plan?_! May looked back at Peter. Peter looked at Wally.

Her eyes, unfortunately came to rest on Peter, and they seemed, somehow, even more molten than before. Oh, Wally...why? Peter smiled weakly, and May, so very able and careful to keep her voice even, spoke.

"Peter. Who is this? Or better yet," she waved her hands in the air for extra measure. "Please tell me he doesn't _actually _have super-speed and he didn't _actually _see you with and without your mask on." She looked over at Wally and smiled sweetly, though her eyes were still somewhat flinty. Peter had forgotten that he'd also broken that promise: not to let anyone else know his identity unless they discussed it and agreed on it. That was one of the conditions. One of the, like, ten he had broken. In a single (school) night.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and gestured to Wally.

"Aunt May, Wally. Wally, Aunt May (notthatthatwasnecessary). I really am sorry, May. Can we...please...come in?" May stared for another second before dropping her hands in defeat and sighing. She moved over to let Peter pass and then smiled at Wally again-this time apologetically.

"Alright. Alright. I'm sorry, sweetie-Wally. Come inside, please. You can leave your shoes by the door."

Peter glanced at his companion, who had seemed love-struck (he really wished people would look at her like, you know, a normal _aunt _sometime and not...an unusually attractive aunt, or whatever) at first glance. He stopped beside the couch and noted, as May flipped on the (very small) remainder of the house's lights, that everything looked a bit discombobulated-a bit frenzied. He cringed.

"Anything for you, babe." Wally said dreamily, stepping inside. He lightly pushed one foot against the other and the mangled rubber remains of his shoes dropped to the floor, smoking lightly. "Say," he said, looking around. "you wouldn't mind if I like, grabbed something to eat real quick? Leftovers are fine, just something to take the o'l edge off the metabolism."

The speedster grinned what he thought was a very winning smile then sped off into the kitchen area. There was a slam of the fridge door and he reappeared with cold pizza in hand and mouth. "Mmf. Th'nks. Yeahhh don't blame Petey here, I kinda fell from the sky and he had to use his shooty-web-thingy to keep me from going splat on the road. Then my little ninja buddy showed up and took us all out for Indian but then a bunch of guys in black (Knights? Sword? Shield? Something?) broke the door down and tried to turn us into imitation swiss cheese so we had to bust outta there and then we decided to just come back here and like, stay the night cause we're all tired and stuff. Did I mention you have gorgeous eyes? 'Cause you have gorgeous eyes. And can you believe this all started because I was delivering hot chocolate? I mean, _sure _life is weird and all that but that's a little strange even for us peeps in the superhero gig."

May put a hand to her forehead and took a moment of silence, eyes closed. When she opened them again, she seemed so much more tired. It looked like 4 AM was taking its toll on her, too.

"Ok. Thank you, Wally," she said quietly. "Pete, will you go get the extra sheets from the closet? Wally and...anyone else who's staying tonight...you can have Peter's bunk beds."

Peter moved to pick up his mask, which lay crumpled beside Wally's burnt shoes, but May made a little grunt that stopped him in his tracks. Peter blushed and scratched at the back of his neck.

"Do you need anything, Wally? Clothes?" She eyed the vacant space the cold pizza had just occupied in his hands. "Food?"

"Uh... " Wally replied uncertainly, now embarrassed after having his hunger curbed. He realized what he had just done probably seemed very rude to anyone not familiar with the way of your average Central City Speedster. "... a toothbrush? And, um, thanks by the way. Keeping calm and not freaking out must run in your family or something. And if I know my bestie, he'll probably want to sleep next to the door so Peter can have his bed."

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Where the heck was Robin, anyway?

May half-ruffled Wally's hair almost subconsciously (noMaypleasedontegghimon) and and smiled much more genuinely this time.

"Sure thing. I'll have Pete get you one...where is your friend again? There's absolutely no reason he should sleep uncomfortably...I'll get an air mattress out to set beside the door if he really wants to be near the door. Maybe an extra blanket or two." She raised her eyebrows at Peter, who was also marveling at how quickly she had collected herself, and he got the hint. He shuffled off to find a toothbrush, an air mattress, and some clean sheets, getting the distinct feeling that somewhere on that gloomy, school-day-in-a-couple-of-hours horizon, a storm was marinating. Not just brewing, mind you. Like, actually marinating.

"Oh, he'll turn up," the redhead replied nonchalantly, for once believing his own words. "and I'm sure he'll appreciate that. I promise things will be cleared up in the morning once we've all gotten a bit of sleep. Rob's way better at that stuff than me. Well, er..."

Wally suddenly felt the urge to scratch again. Darn those socially awkward itches!

"...g'night?"

Before May could reply he shuffled off after Peter, beet red.

May watched the blushing teen leave and let out a large sigh. He reminded her a bit of Peter, actually. She narrowed her eyes and leaned against the wall.

Speaking of which...she had no idea what the heck was going on, but you better believe she was going to find out.

"Goodnight, boys," she muttered, even though they were both out of sight already. Maybe she should have been a little more hesitant about this whole thing, but her nerves were so shot she didn't think it was physically possible for her to get any more worked up. She peeled off the wall and pushed the couch forward, making room for this mysterious friend's bed.

* * *

Peter found the air mattress. He found the sheets. But gosh darn him if he couldn't find a freaking toothbrush.

He slammed a drawer in a sudden bout of frustration, guilt, and exhaustion, and then instantly regretted it. May hadn't deserved any of what he had put her through. Would it have really been all that bad for him to have replied to one of her calls?

Anyway. Maybe he had a toothbrush stored away in his closet or something. He padded down the hall to his door, put his hand on the knob, and turned…

...Right as the door opened.

The two boys froze as they stared at each other, the black haired one having to tilt his head up quite a bit.

Robin was wearing one of Peter's shirts - a faded old thing emblazoned with Captain America's shield. And a pair of his sweatpants, pooling around the smaller kid's ankles. The sunglasses were still on, albeit slightly crooked.

"...I've got an extra toothbrush for Wally in my utility built?" Robin said hesitantly, forcing himself to remain expressionless (something that was rather hard for him). Maybe going through Peter's things was a bit much, and borrowing his clothes was even more so, but he needed an excuse. So, he'd arrived shortly after Wally (thank Batman for the high speed grapnel setting!), made short work of the lock on window, and popped through. It was messy and clearly well used, much like his own back home, but it had definitely sheltered some... Interesting material. To say the least. "So..." he continued, his voice cracking a bit. "...that's a...uh, pretty sweet Lego Death Star ya got there."

Peter blinked, then cleared his throat. He didn't want to let the younger boy know just how much his stomach had jumped upon seeing him so unexpectedly in his room. In his clothes. He cleared his throat. "Uh...yeah...good. Thanks." Maybe he should have been upset at such an intrusion of privacy, but for some reason, all he could think was:

_Ohcrapohcrap what if he found the shirt and Hello Kitty pants Mr. Stark bought!?_

He had been meaning to burn them or something for a while now, but he could never bring himself to burn clothes that Tony _Freaking_ Stark bought for him. Even if it was a punishment.

Banishing those thoughts, Peter jerked a thumb back from where he had come (he could hear Wally behind him). "So...Wally said you might want a bed by the door. Aunt May said...she would get an air mattress set up."

He felt a little flushed for some reason, and the more he was around him, the more unnerved he was by Robin. Someone that young and short should not be so intimidating...it wasn't... natural. Then again, neither were superpowers.

It took every ounce of control Robin had not to start cackling uncontrollably right then and there at Peter's expression. He knew. And he knew that HE knew. Wow, he hadn't expected to get blackmail fodder this early. "Yeah, he's finally using that super speed to get ahead of me for once. An air mattress would be totally fine, I used to sleep on them all the time when I was youn - you know what? Nevermind, it doesn't matter."

Robin stepped to the side politely, allowing the teen to enter his own room. Peter looked skittish as all get out and inwardly he sighed. So much for first impressions. Now _he_ was the Freakin' Batman of the situation. Juuuuuust great.

"Thanks for putting up with our shenanigans. I know you're not exactly traught right now, but I'll recompensate you and your Aunt for letting us hang here."

Wally sped into the room just then, the slap of his bare feet on the floor sounding like a duck on caffeine. "Robyou'rethebestohmygoshisthatatoothbrush?Abatbrush?"

"You bet it's a batbrush. Behooooold the power of dental contingency plans!" Robin sing-sang, this time allowing himself to cackle.

"Duuuuuuuude!" Wally zipped through the room in a blur, ending up on the top bunk with his legs dangling over the side. He leaned back against the wall and put his arms behind his head, sighing contentedly. "Awww h*** yeah, this is where it's at."

"Language!"

"Meh."

Robin rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses, exiting the room like he had originally intended to. "I'm going to go help your Aunt with the mattress. Don't forget to brush your teeth, Walls."

Wally sat up again. There was another brief blur and he appeared back where he was, smelling strongly of mint. "Right back atcha, shorty."

Robin snorted and left the room. It was time to meet their host and if there was ONE thing he knew how to do that Bruce had never taught him, it was put on a performance. No doubt she would need all the reassurance she could get, knowing Wally.

With Robin's exit, some of Peter's tension leaked away, but it left room for his exhaustion to flood in. He rubbed his eyes, half aware that he might need to help May himself, but also half aware that Robin needed to meet her and she probably still needed to cool off some. He yawned, swinging his backpack to the floor beside his desk, and then he checked his battered watch.

_4:41._

There wasn't a chance he was getting out of school tomorrow (not that he honestly wanted to), and he would normally be getting up and starting his quick morning patrol in about an hour and a half anyway. He might as well...

"Hey, Wally...would you, uh, mind if I kept the light on to do some quick studying?" Peter asked, then pulled his well-worn chemistry book and dropped the heavy tome on the desk. "It's OK if you don't. I just figur-" a yawn interrupted him. "I just figured I might as well, you know, get what I can in."

He was, of course, going to have to find a source of caffeine. He rarely drank coffee because it affected him so badly, but this was a special occasion.

A _very _special occasion.

* * *

May finished fitting the sheet to the mattress, but her eyes were drooping so badly that she almost laid down and fell asleep on it herself.

She turned to go see if the boys needed anything, moving sluggishly and stiffly, and was greeted with the sight of a a twelve or thirteen year old stranger in her nephew's clothes. She let out a small help and then leaned against the couch, inwardly chastising her heart for being so excitable at this time of night. "And you must be Wally's friend," she said with a sigh. She forced a smile that probably looked so very unconvincing. "You can call me Aunt May."

Robin smiled warmly, nodding. "Thanks but, um, can I just call you Miss May? I'm sorry, but the guy who raised me would probably flip out if I didn't. I'm D - "

He hesitated, suddenly torn. May reminded him a little of someone he once knew, and his first impulse had been to use his nickname. He must have been more tired than he thought, despite still feeling wired.

"...d-definitely glad to meet you. You can call me Robin for now until we get things cleared in the morning, I'm sure you must be tired. Thank you so much for all that you've done and for taking us into your home, Peter is incredibly lucky to have you as his family."

He had a headache.

"And I really did mean it when I said we'll explain ourselves, it's just a long story and I know both of you are going to have questions and vice versa. Just... don't let it stop you from getting a good night's rest, ya know? I promise we're not axe murderers or anything."

He out on his 'charming-ward-of-billionaire-philanthropist-Bruce-Wayne smile. That last part was iffy, seeing as both he and Wally WERE highly dangerous people, but true in the sense that they weren't axe murderers. Yet. Also, he needed to get some sort of communication-scrambling tech shield up before bedding down for the night (assuming he would be able to sleep) so that S.H.I.E.L.D couldn't find them and catch them off guard.

_Gee, yeah, you're not your mentor at all, Grayson._

Bleh.

May kept up her wry smile for as long as she physically could, but the kid standing before her was disconcerting. He was charming, yes, but that was part of the problem. No kid (except maybe her Peter) should be _charming _or _winning _or so charismatic in such an adult-like...way.

Either way, her brain hurt just thinking about what all he'd said, so she just hoped she hadn't misunderstood anything too important and nodded when he was finished. "Gotcha', Tiger," she said, smiling sleepily.

She wasn't entirely sure where the "tiger" part came from, but it sounded vaguely familiar from her days as a kid, so it seemed to work. She walked on by 'Robin' (_that _was going to have to change...she wasn't knowingly going to allow any secret identities or masks or freaky secrets in _her _home anymore) and paused in the entrance to the hallway.

"I know you're trying to put my mind at ease, but..." she looked over her shoulder and tried peering into wherever the boy's eyes were. "Just make sure _you _get some sleep, too. I don't know where you came from, who you are, or pretty much anything else about you, but I've lived with a vigilante teenager long enough to recognize the signs."

She winked.

With one last smile-one that she hoped would be the last she had to procure until morning-May gave him a little wave and disappeared down the dark hallway to her room. Maybe this was all one horrid dream, although the prospects on that weren't looking that great.

Robin stood in his tracks, dumbfounded, long after May left. Maybe it was the late (or was it early?) hour, maybe the fact that he was stuck in an alternate dimension with his best friend and that it was nowhere _near _as awesome of a situation as it sounded - but when May had called him 'Tiger' in that maternal way she had, it felt as though his heart had done a flip. He'd felt _thirteen. _It had...

"Stop right there." he told himself sternly, shaking his head and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Bruce would be disappointed at how he was handling things right now, he just knew it. He needed to be better. He would design a quick masking code on his wrist computer, plug it into the desktop in Peter's room, then he would sleep.

Tomorrow would be better.

It _had _to be.

* * *

Wally looked to be sound asleep.

To anyone who actually knew him, however, it was obvious he was anything _but. _There were no gratingly loud chainsaw snores indicating he was out like a light, and he hadn't even believed he _did _until his best friend had brought a camera with him on their monthly sleepover at Wally's house. Wally had gotten up the next morning to be greeted with a mischievous look and forty minute footage of a close-up on his face. Every time he let out a snore a hand would pass over the camera holding a toy airplane, and to his absolute horror the video ended up going viral. His shrieked promise of never speaking to Dick again had lasted all of two days before they were plotting how to get Bruce into a Dollar Tree.

Unlike most people, Wally didn't feel the need to toss and turn when he couldn't count sheep. Instead he would lay shock-still and stare up at the ceiling, his thoughts going a hundred miles a minute. Here in Peter's room, he found one could only concentrate for so long on a popcorn ceiling before your brains felt like they were turning to mush.

He turned his head, careful not to make any noise, and saw that Peter had fallen asleep slumped over his desk, the light still on and his hand still loosely curled around his pencil. Wally grinned, slowly sitting up before easing himself down off the bunk bed and softly walking over. Gently sliding the thick textbook out from under Peter's head (eww, was that drool?), he grabbed another pencil and set to work, figuring it was the least he could do and besides, he was up anyway. Over on the air mattress next to the door, Robin glanced at him from behind the blue holoscreen of his wrist computer. He gave a small smile and a thumbs up before returning to his own work, and from then on the night passed quickly.

Morning (and coffee!) could not come soon enough.

* * *

**Ohheylookanotherprettylongchapter! YAYYYYY AHH I'VE HAD SO MUCH COFFEE AND COOKIES AND IT'S LATE BUT THAT'S OKAY CAUSE AHHHH and also TonyStarkFeels. wwwhhyyYYYYYYYYY? And also Post-Invasion feels from Young Justice. IT'S STILL TOO SOON. **


	7. Chew Your Food Before Talking, Please

"Uh...wah... 'msorryitwasn't...PENGUINS!"

Peter got only the briefest whiff of something (pancakes?) and only the vaguest hint of panic (what _time _was it?!) before waking up violently from his oddly nightmarish dream (which he had no desire to discuss afterward).

While normal people might wake up due to an involuntary muscle spasm, (like a kick or rogue arm), it became apparent that spider-enhanced friendly neighborhood teenage students who have stayed up far past their bedtime after gallivanting around the city and eating Indian food with strangers who fell out of the sky do _not_, in fact, have the pleasure of waking up in that manner. Instead, Peter's spider side decided to attack the penguin-riding Iron Man of its dreams, and, after launching him bodily out of his desk chair, it careened him into the side of the door (which was open...he never left it open while he slept) with his face, and then it left him there on the floor, stunned. He could almost hear the ghost of that darn radioactive spider cackling as it left him.

He grimaced.

"Ouch."

On the top bunk, an arm dangled precariously over the edge. The sounds of the scuffle below made it twitch, and after a second a mop of red bedhead lifted up and peered over the edge, the green eyes blinking sleepily. "Oh, hey. Wassup Pete?"

Peter sat up and glanced upwards, scrubbing at his face. Wait...that's right. Wally. Kid...Dash. "Uh...hey. Just," the sleepy teen sighed before standing up. "On the floor.

He winced, but now he _definitely _knew there were pancakes. And he also knew he had better get to them before KD (that didn't sound right, but he chalked it up to the door injury) realized that May - amazing, amazing May - had actually made pancakes of all things. After that whole escapade last night, this was a miracle. A miracle that better not be gone by the time he reached the kitchen.

"Yeeeeaaaahhhhh, I can see that." Wally said slowly, wondering if this guy had been this weird yesterday. Eh, whatever. He sniffed the air appreciatively, catching Peter's worried glances to the door. "Does that smell like pancakes to you? 'Cause if your Aunt's as good at cooking as she is being gorgeous, then...well...LASTONETOTHEKITCHENISAGENOMORPH!"

Wally slipped into his superspeed to make a grand exit, only to trip on the bottom rung and fall flat on his face. Embarrassed beyond belief, he picked himself up and sped off again, hoping he didn't have a nosebleed.

"I should have just gave them directions to a hotel," Peter muttered, although he instantly felt bad after saying it. But really. He gave directions a gazillion times a day...why had last night been different?

Oh, yeah. They were from another dimension.

He took only a second to check how much he had gotten done on his homework last night, only to find that it was neatly tucked into his book. Complete.

"Huh."

Peter opened the door and went to get what was left of the pancakes. The sight he was met with was one that was was entirely unexpected.

For one, May was looking sternly at Wally, who was meekly sitting at the kitchen bar, his outstretched hand twitching nervously at the massive stack of buttery, fluffy pancakes sitting in front of him. Over in the doorway, Robin was grinning triumphantly and holding up several large shopping bags. The clothes he'd mooched off of Peter were replaced with dark jeans, black converse, and a green hoodie that still managed to look oversized.

"They didn't have your brand of deodorant in this dimension, Wally, so I had to get the next best thing." Robin said conversationally, shaking the bag.

This somehow managed to push the thought of forbidden pancakes to the back of the Speedster's mind and he sped over, holding open the bag and peering in excitedly.

"Thanks du - wait, WHAT? Old spice, really?" Wally glared at the younger boy, who immediately stick his tongue out.

"Like I said, next best thing. That bag's got all our hygiene stuff. Your new style is in this one."

Wally dug around in the offered bag a moment before pulling out a t shirt. He wrinkled his nose. "Maroon Five? Seriously?"

"Least it's not Beiber?"

"Truuuue. Oooooh saline and pool goggles!"

"I noticed your eyes were getting pretty dry last night, bro."

"Bro, this is why you're my bro, bro."

The teens briefly broke into giggles.

"Oh, and I got you a few pairs of the sturdiest shoes I could find, but hopefully you won't have to do too much long distance running. Is that coffee? I, like, need an IV line to the pot."

Robin all but skipped over to the pot sitting on the counter, somehow knowing exactly where the mugs were at and after careful consideration, chose a unicorn themed one with the words, "We're all a little Unicorny" written in cursive on the side. He filled it up and started chugging the straight up black liquid.

May relaxed, grinning at the humorous antics of her two new house guests and finishing frying the sausage, which she promptly plopped onto a nearby plate and carried to the table. She wiped her hands off, sighed, and smiled softly at disgruntled Peter.

She clapped her hands together. "Ok, boys. Let's eat!"

Peter sat down, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and yawned. He had never gotten his coffee last night, so maybe some was in order now...although May's slightly disapproving expression upon seeing Robin joyously slurp his up was a bit of a deterrent.

"You don't have to tell ME twice, babe." Wally said, grinning cheekily before zipping back to his seat, fork at the ready. Robin poured himself another cup of joe, this time getting the sugar bowl out and methodically scooping sugar into it. Not one, not two, not three tablespoons of sugar, but eight. And a half.

"Breakfast looks amazing, Miss May." he said politely, taking a seat and helping himself to two pancakes. "I'd hate for Wally here to run your grocery bill up, so I'd be more than happy to refund you."

"So h'w's that work an'way?" Wally asked around a mouthful of food. He swallowed before continuing, thankfully. "I mean, we're in another dimension so how is B's card still working?"

"It's an emergency credit," Robin replied offhandedly, sprinkling more sugar onto his pancakes and not daring to look at the adult in the room. "It was set up as a sort of virus that latches on to whatever account network you want it to. In Gotham we coded it to obtain funds from the Falcone's accounts (they're like, one of the biggest mobs) and they don't even notice because I programmed it to show up as having not touched any numbers in their banking reports. Here, I just did a little...uh, research using the info I got from your watch, Peter, and did the same thing. Just with your local crime network."

May sat down beside Peter and leaned back, pushing the pancakes and sausage forward so everyone knew they were free for the taking. She also smiled at Robin to let him know she had heard and acknowledged his gratitude. She took a sip of her own coffee and listened, fascinated, as he discussed his "emergency credit" setup. "So...did you program this pretty much by yourself?" she asked, eyebrows up.

Peter squirmed and looked down at his watch uncomfortably. Robin had said he'd wanted directions...not anything else. He felt slightly betrayed, but supposed it made sense with Robin's personality so far. He thought about Mr. Stark and the fact that this whole breach of security probably did nothing to boost how the man saw him. He sunk a little deeper into his seat. At any rate, it was only about half an hour until school, and then he could forget about this all for a while. He sat back up and tuned into May and Robin's conversation, his spirits lifted a little at the thought of Ned, MJ, and these delicious pancakes.

"Mostly. Batman helped with some of the finer details." Robin said modestly, although a hint of pride crept into his voice.

"He's a nerd. He even leads his school's mathletes team." Wally smirked, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

"WALLY, your fingers are sticky, stooooop!"

"Gotcha'." May winked, then shared a painfully obvious glance with Peter at the whole 'mathletes' thing. She decided not to comment on the "Batman" thing. Peter, however, latched onto that.

"Waif...B'man?" He said, interested, before leaning forward and forgetting the pancakes stuffed in his mouth. He swallowed painfully. "Is he, like, a guy with bat powers? Sonar? Wings? Man, a suit for that would look awesome!"

He wasn't exactly sure why the idea of a bat-man appealed to him so much, but it did.

Wally choked on his pancake, clearly snickering beneath the gross sounds. Robin frowned and leaned over, whacking his friend on the back. Hard.

"Something like that," the youngest smirked, privately wondering if Bruce would consider installing the Batcall into his own suit. Of course, that might not go as well with the bird theme... "Neither Batman or I technically have powers."

Peter deflated visibly, leaning back into his seat. "Oh...still cool, though. I mean, what about all your..." he made little sharp, quick motions with his hands, nearly upsetting the syrup pot. May put a finger on it just before it dropped off the table. "Zip, zip things, you know?" He felt his face heat up but forced himself to keep eye contact.

May cleared her throat and looked expectantly at Robin from over the rim of her mug.

"Um, my zip zi - ? Oh, right. They're called grapnels - they allow me to do what I do best - _fly_."

Wally cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "I'M the zip zip one. He's just a thirteen year-old kid who happens to have a bill - "

Robin hissed and slapped his hand over Wally's mouth, this time not caring if he got sticky.

Peter ignored Robin's little display of panic and tried to explain what he'd actually meant, but the whole ordeal left him feeling a little unnerved. Again. "Oh. I was actually talking about the...uh...ninja skills or whatever." Peter chugged the rest of his milk somewhat aggressively. "But the grapnel thing. That's cool, too. I didn't mean to, like-"

May put a hand over Peter's, startling him to jerking point. "Peter, honey, they get it. I'd like to ask some questions, ok? Do you need to go get your backpack and maybe...change clothes?"

Peter nodded, feeling the heat spread from his face to his ears. "Yeah, good idea. I'll just...go do that."

He hadn't actually changed clothes since yesterday, and, now that she had mentioned it, he had been smelling something funky since he'd woken jumped from his seat and tried to flee the room without seeming too much like a frightened... spider. He had a feeling he'd failed.

Meanwhile, May took her time sipping her coffee, and then she laced her fingers. She put her hands on the table in front of her, staring intently at Robin and Wally (although a majority of the attention was indeed on Robin). "I'm usually pretty cool with Peter's shenanigans," she said quietly. "But this whole..." she waved her hands over a facial expression of her own invention. "Mystery, not showing your eyes, all this needs to go. I mean no disrespect, either. Superhero stuff is tough, I get it. But there's no need for that here."

Another sip of coffee and a bite of pancake followed this statement.

"Besides, sweetie, no one here knows who or what you're talking about half the time anyway." She took a half a second to let him think and then added, "I guess I'm just trying to say that if you and your friend need a base of operations, I'm here! That's great! But the secrets have to go."

_Uh oh. _

When Peter's aunt sent him away and got that serious look (highly reminiscent of Alfred), Robin knew he was about to be in for it. Was it the copious amounts of sugar...?

A second later and he could've slapped himself for thinking it would be something as insignificant as that. Of course she would have a problem with him keeping it all hush. Wally was looking at him hopefully (the speedster hated Batman's no-giving-away-your-identity rule, and to be honest, Robin did too.

Besides, he'd already did a quick search for any Bruce Wayne's on the off chance that Batman and Robin would have a counterpart here, but nothing had come up. Not even a Gotham city.

And it _would _be nice to have a... Base of operations, as she put it.

Wally was waggling his eyebrows at him and making faces.

"Well, uh, you see... where I come from my identity can be linked to pretty much every single superhero in the Justice League, along with any sidekicks. Not only that, but my mentor heavily relies on his name being a secret to keep our city safe. "

Robin's leg started bouncing under the table and began to feel clammy.

"Even here it might be dangerous, simply because my eyes are kind of...easily recognizable."

It was true. Not only were blue eyes an uncommon characteristic to share with jet-black hair, but they had the misfortune of being an unusual shade of blue, too.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, do you feel it's absolutely necessary to see my eyes in order to trust me?"

He figured he already knew the answer, but at least he'd have some sort of excuse if Batman ever found out. Which he probably would.

May raised her eyebrows. She didn't like making anyone uncomfortable, especially someone so much younger than her, but this situation required addressing. "Robin-or whatever your REAL name is-no, I don't have to see your eyes to trust you. I already DO trust you to some degree, evidenced by the fact that I was actually able to sleep with you in the house last night."

She flashed him a reassuring smile.

"But the fact is, you have no reason to hide yourself. At least here, that is. And if you really WANT to keep all the secrecy, fine."

May stood up and put her dishes in the sink to soak, then turned back to him. "Keep in mind, though, that we can only truly trust you as much as you trust us, and how much we can help each other is limited by that trust, too. Also, I wouldn't worry too much about your eye color. Have you seen some of the trends teenagers are coming up with these days?"

She made the little crazy circles by her head. Peter, at that moment, reentered the room. He hadn't showered, per se, but he was in fresh clothes and he had his backpack. He was ready for school...all chemistry aside.

"Just take off your glasses, dude. It's gonna be all right." Wally was saying softly, knowing that the fact Robin was even considering showing his face was an enormous show of trust for the little bird. May and Peter didn't know that, but it was there nonetheless.

"R-right."

Robin reached up, letting his hands linger on the frames for a moment, before quickly yanking them off and slipping them into his pocket.

Back to being nothing but a circus orphan. One who happened to be in another dimension.

"My name is Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. And yes, I have heard every. Single. Joke about my nickname but I don't care. It's old fashioned, but my parents used to call me that and I'm not changing it. Ever."

Dick knew he was babbling, but something about taking off the last mask made him feel young and inexperienced again, despite knowing he was the same as Robin. It was just a feeling he couldn't shake.

Wally gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.

Peter appeared in the doorway just, arms crossed over his chest, a little bit shocked at the sight of an unmasked Robin. Eventually, he decided to ignore the fact...it was probably just as uncomfortable for Rob-er, Dick-as it was for him. But his eyes _were_ an unusual color – a darker blue than the usual shades people had. May, meanwhile, beamed and sat back down.

"Yes! See, I knew it would be ok!"

She did this weird little mom-ish hip and arm dance and got right back up again to turn to the cabinet, winking at poor wincing Peter as she did so.

"Uh...May? I'm gonna go now. To school," he said uncomfortably, hooking his thumbs under the straps of his backpack and not looking at his two companions from the night before. His aunt turned as if suddenly remembering something.

"Right. I was meaning to say something about that. Dick, Wally, I know you've had a long night, but how do you feel about going to school with Petey here?"

Peter's eyes widened involuntarily.

_"What?"  
_  
May put a hand on her hip, faced Peter. It was a challenge, and he knew it; he wasn't out of last night's water quite yet.

* * *

**Ohh an update? It's been like, what, a week? Two weeks? Shh... I try XD It's been crazy at work, but here's you a nice long chap. I'll probably update again this weekend and Loki's about to make his usual grand entrance again ;) And... SCHEWWL YAAYY (poor Pete)**


	8. This Guy Seems Gloriously Burdened

**_New York City, 2012_**

Everything was chaos.

Emmi huddled in between the two bus seats, feet on the floor, drawn close to her body, and her knees pressed into her sternum. Her hands were clasped over her ears, but the sounds of destruction outside still made their way to her head. Shouts, screams, the sounds of rending metal, the distant roar of shots fired, and the occasional rumble of some creatures she neither saw nor wished to see—with every one of these things, the fear that hung so thickly in the air around the 15 year-old's head became heavier and heavier. She could taste it, and she couldn't remember having ever tasted something so horrible.

She stared down at the dirty, olive skin of her trembling hands, noticed the thin line of blood that stretched across it. If someone—or something—found her, she thought, she would not be able to fight. She would die silently, and the heroes that were supposed to protect her and all the other people in this city would never even know her name.

Another sharp crash sounded near her, nearer even than before, and her breath froze in her throat. It was a solid block of ice that now made her throat ache and burn for lack of relief. Emmi clenched her eyes shut, waited for the sound of approaching footsteps or the sudden destruction of her hiding place. She waited. And she waited. And she waited.

She could have stayed there, curled and tight and afraid, for hours. Maybe days. But when the crashes finally subsided and an eerie surface calm descended upon the world outside, she lifted her head. Tears ran down her cheeks and into her collar, but she couldn't remember having cried them. Her muscles ached and her joints burned as she hesitantly uncurled her body.

The monsters—aliens, whatever—had never come for her, but still she tasted the fear. It ran through her veins, it seemed.

She stood up on shaky legs and, barely able to hope, peered so very cautiously out of the window of the bus, streaked with grime and smeared with smoke as it was. Her breath caught again. Her legs collapsed from under her. She fell into the split seat behind her, eyes locked on the scene outside.

Even the black smoke that curled off all the ruins could not conceal the vast amount of damage outside. Great blocks of masonry and heavy metal beams alike lay mangled and twisted all around the bus, and she could see, not that far away, where half of a skyscraper seemed to have been ripped off completely, revealing bare, scarred bone.

The pavement, where she had walked so often, had a great seam running through one side of it, and the sidewalk had been all but obliterated beneath an enormous load of what used to be a bank's outer wall. Water seeped from broken pipes, turning the dusty and gravel into a muddy black sludge.

Emmi swallowed, her throat dry.

She slowly stepped into the aisle and pulled her ripped jacket closer around her body. Sirens were wailing in the difference. Someone shouted several blocks away. Emmi could still only stare at the wreck that had been made of the city. _Her _city.

"My house," she breathed, suddenly remembering just how close it was to her. If everywhere was as bad as this...she couldn't finish thinking about it. She needed to get to her home, check on her animals. She needed to slam the door against the choking dust and the network of emotions all around. She needed to bury her head into the fur of her retriever and she needed to forget how heavily grief sat on one's chest.

So, she took off running. Dodged the masses of fallen buildings, gingerly avoided the wide sprays of blown-out windows, and tried to change directions completely whenever she caught a glimpse of anything that resembled clothing. Or armor.

By the time she reached her street, however, she could no longer see straight for the tears in her eyes, and she could no longer catch her breath. She had seen horrible things on the way—monsters and blood and mangled flesh.

Yet even those sights vanished momentarily from her mind when she reached her home and fell, sharp stones biting into her bare knees. No longer did she hear the sirens. No longer did the crush of a panicked city's conflicting emotions pressure her head to breaking point. All she could hear and all she could feel was the sound of her own tears and the sound of her own heart breaking. For once, she felt only _one_ heartbeat in her ear.

Everything was gone.

* * *

**_New York City, 5 years later_**

* * *

Emmi took a bite of her cereal, but she didn't taste it.

The news anchor was talking about the Avengers again, and it was making her angry. She slammed the spoon into the half-empty bowl and then chucked into the sink with the rest of her unwashed dishes, though she kept an eye on the TV the whole time.

They were, of course, talking about what had happened nearly a year ago, when Captain America and his band of stars and stripes officially became criminals. Again. Emmi rolled her eyes at the empathetic faces of the woman on now, and then she turned her headphones up louder. She could just vaguely hear the voices on the television, and it was doing nothing for the charged headache she was experiencing.

For what had to be the fourth time since she had moved here on her eighteenth birthday, her next-door flatmates were having relationship problems again. Needless to say, her involuntary ability to soak up whatever emotions were running nearby was proving to be a little more than annoying. The slick, pure strands of classical music coming through her headphones alleviated the anger, sorrow, and tension she couldn't help but feel any time she was home. A little bit.

She walked outside and leaned against the pathetic rail of her balcony, looking down into the urban sprawl below her. She had class in about an hour at Queensborough Community College down the street, but she figured that was enough time to work on her painting a little bit. That was yet another activity that normally soothed her. This painting in particular, however, did nothing of the sort.

She had just set up her easel and collected her paints when her pit bull wandered in. She set down her brush and beckoned to him.

"C'mere, Myles," she whispered. The dog happily obliged. "You're just a big baby, aren't you? Huh? Just a big baby..."

She smiled and gave him one last scratch behind the ears, and her eyes were once more drawn to the television.

"_Jack, what do you think about our very own web-slinger, Spiderman, swinging around our city? Do you think he could fall into the same fate as the Avengers did if he was given time?_"

Emmi frowned and leaned towards the TV, eyes scanning the subtitles quickly and then jumping back to the somewhat blurry photo they had displayed of whoever this guy was.

_"Well, Lisa, I do believe that he's good for this city. After all—"_

Emmi didn't even bother reading the rest of the conversation. It made her sick. She clicked off the TV and turned back around, trying to ignore the sharp bursts of pain and emotion that were creeping through her musical barrier.

The Avengers, Spiderman, vigilantes in general—there was no way they were in any way _good _for the city they lived in. They worked outside the law, and their actions often led to levels of destruction that could have been partially, if not entirely, avoided if they had just worked _with the law_.

The Sokovia Accords had been at the least the beginnings of a good idea, but the implementation was severely lacking.

Emmi swiped her brush across the canvas, painting a little corner at its bottom a tan-gray color. The color of dusty stones in a street.

She could attest to the so-called benefits of "superheroes" in society. She had lost everything she had ever worked for five years ago when the Avengers failed to do their job, letting the villain escape and destroying her entire world in the process.

She dropped her trembling hands from the canvas and glared at the vertical smear she had put in the wrong spot.

It hadn't been easy, pretending that she had been orphaned during the chaos just so she could find a home within the foster system for three years. It hadn't been easy, sacrificing her pride and dignity by pretending she knew nothing about anything when she had been living on her own, out from under the city and government's radar, for over five years already.

Emmi clenched her jaw, forced her hand to be still. She made a small, quick swipe with her brush, and a stream of glistening water appeared on her scene.

It wasn't going to be easy, too, to finally put things right regarding the Avengers and every other vigilante trying to "do good." She might be only one person, but she was a lot stronger and more powerful than she allowed anyone to know.

And they were _never _going to be expecting her.

* * *

_**Present Day: 2012 Alternate Timeline (from Endgame) Loki  
**_

* * *

Loki lurched to his feet, mortified at having been in such an _insulting _position on the floor for one of his status. With a flick of a lazy spell he rid himself of the dust clinging to his battle robes, standing at the ready and hesitantly moving his eyes around the area he had mysteriously occupied.

From what he knew of the simple-minded ways of humans, Loki deduced he was standing in the arena of Foot and Ball, if the name was to be remembered correctly. He remembered questioning Odin during the studies of his youth, asking why in the nine realms such a sport should even contain the word 'foot' in the title when the rules of the tournament had little to anything to do with the use of feet. Not that it mattered, anyway, seeing as soon they would all be under his rule and the entire event would be abolished. Straightening his back, Loki strode swiftly and confidently toward the tall building of brick and mortar just across the green field. Instruction was no doubt underway, seeing as only himself and one other were outside the buildings.

Coming toward him was a middle aged man with a face that might have once been considered attractive beneath the grey stubble. His ash blond hair was parted in a limp comb-over, his unusually bright brown eyes framed by black-rimmed glasses. The man was muttering to himself over a stack of papers atop a clipboard, but Loki realized that he cut such a majestic sight against the fading light of day, clothed in the forest green and gold of his trade, that the man could not help but look up and stare.

Distant recognition flickered across the man's features, widening into shock.

"Y-you! You're that - "

Loki raised his eyebrows and smiled thinly before leaping forward and grabbing the back of the man's head with one hand and forcefully bringing it forward into the waiting fist of his other. The man was knocked out cold, and the trickster god smirked before allowing his illusionary magic to cloak him in the unconscious man's appearance. Without further ado, he drug the body toward the rows of metal benches the spectators of the Foot and Ball Tournament would have occupied - weren't they officially named after some sort of Midgardian cleaning liquid? No matter. For now, it was time to access one of the crude Midgardian devices they used to store information. Ha! The lowly fools had not even discovered the use of raw crystals for such things!

Entering the building his appearance-host had just come out of, Loki narrowed his eyes, fighting the urge to roll his shoulders. The stupid green one had admittedly been powerful, and what with the weakness he had already felt before arriving at this cursed realm, Loki was not feeling particularly at his best. At some point, he would need to find food and drink, as well. The long hall he wandered was filled with useless papers of the sickeningly colorful variety, emblazoned with words such as 'KARAOKE NIGHT AT 6 IN FORD HALL,' or 'MEETING FOR SIGMA DELTA IN VERNER, BRING MAYO AND WATER BALLOONS,' and other ridiculous things.

Honestly, how _did _humanity survive thus far?

"Oh, Mr. Harrington!" said a portly woman with an Odin-awful headband barely restraining her curls. She looked at him expectantly and Loki inwardly huffed in impatience. Outwardly, he smiled in a manner that would be considered, 'warmly.'

"Ahh, yes. What can I do for you today?" Loki as 'Harrington' asked politely.

Headbandwoman gave him a strange look. "Nothing, Mr. Harrington. I must say, you dropped those files off at the front rather pretty quick. You're a pretty spry guy for someone our age, eh? Heh!"

The infernal woman playfully jabbed him in the side and with great difficulty, Loki resisted the urge to shove his hand entirely through her sternum. "Well, you know - I've gone to the excursion...place... a lot lately."

"You mean the...gym?"

"Yes, of course. Silly me." Loki corrected, giving her a smile that was probably showing far too many teeth.

"Yes...well, um. Your class is looking forward to your lecture, from what I hear. Best not keep them waiting!" the ridiculously peppy woman warbled, jerking a thumb over her shoulder at the door behind her. A golden plaque on the wall beside it read: _Dr. Ephraim . Harrington: Anthropology. _

Anthropology. The study of humankind and its inferiority.

_That _he knew well.

Mindful of the insufferably cheerful idiot woman's eyes on him, Loki continued smiling as he pushed the door open and entered the classroom.

* * *

Emmi sensed something was off the moment Professor Harrington stepped into the room.

She stopped discussing the benefits of charcoal toothpaste with one of her friends mid-sentence before catching herself and giving the girl a smile.

"We'll finish this conversation later." She turned around as the teacher approached his desk and peered at him keenly. Her head, of course, was already filled with the various emotional impressions of the entire classroom-frustration, exhaustion, and excitement were generally the norms as far as that went. Usually they were in that order, too. But her professor's presence seemed sharper than all the others in the room; it didn't meld seamlessly into the generic maelstrom of everyone else's presences.

She shifted in her seat and mindlessly put the pencil she was holding to her lips, trying to simultaneously interpret the man's body language and also isolate his emotional presence. It was a hard thing to do, especially when she had spent so much of her life training herself to let everything around her _fade _into the background and not stand out-it had taken years to successfully inhibit the splitting headaches and the inability to form a single coherent thought of her own. She snorted, forgetting for the briefest of moments that her she was, indeed, inside a classroom.

"...he looks a bit frizzled today," the girl beside her giggled, smirking. Her voice came to Emmi slowly and muffled, as if underwater. She nodded in response, but never once did she take her eyes off the Professor. The sooner she could discern what the root of his agitation-or whatever these vague whirls of emotion were-the sooner she could ignore it and focus on her studies.

And the more she watched him, the more her classmate's word seemed to fit the man's behavior: _frizzled_.

Meanwhile, Loki lifted his eyebrows when he took in sea of faces (well, it was more of a _pond, _really) before him - the features set in varying expressions of disinterest, curiosity, eagerness, and skepticism. He allowed his lip to curl, instantly feeling in his element. With the slightest hint of a swagger in his step, the god of mischief walked forward, delighting in making uncomfortable eye contact with whoever dared to hold it. He leaned back against a massive, mahogany desk laden with stacks of papers and what seemed to be a small collection of staplers. What was _with _mortals and their need for parchment? It was everywhere!

Loki rolled his eyes. At least the pawn who's out-of-shape body he now wore had had a decent taste in warfare, judging by the Yoruba idas hanging along one wall and the taste in classical Greek art was portrayed by a beautifully carved marble bust of Hermes. Tsk, if only this Hareflingbun fellow or whatever his name was knew that at that very moment, Loki, god of Mischief and Rightful Heir of Asgard, was using his pitiful shell to navigate the world of mortals.

"Greetings, my apprentices," he began, clasping his hands behind as back and smiling thinly. "today we shall take a sabbatical from the tomes and instead focus on the subject of human depravity and foolishness throughout the short span of Mi - I mean, _earth's _shallow life. Now, who among you can recite the essentials of Thucydides's admittedly clever analysis of the war between Athenians and Spartans?"

There was, of course, a dumb silence at this.

Normally, there might be that one guy who knew exactly what the professor was talking about at all times, but-Emmi did a quick scan around the room just to make sure-yep. That guy wasn't here today. Not that she cared. There were _far _more interesting things to focus on right now, one of them being the fact that Professor Harrington was actually going out of his way to talk about, as he had put it, "the subject of human depravity and foolishness." That was most definitely not what he had suggested they were going to be discussing yesterday, and it often took a _lot _to change Harrington's mind once he had set it on something.

She leaned forward, engaged.

Loki smirked, an unusual expression for the dusty-haired gentleman who was known for his wooden ways. The Trickster, however, was just getting started. He hadn't planned to stick around, but clearly time travel could wait - he was having _far _too much fun already and who better to educate the mindless monkey-children about their own need for subservience than he?

"All too often," he began, waltzing around the desk to fall back gracefully into the high-backed chair on wheels. He settled in and propped his feet on the desk, twirling a fine ballpoint pen he'd conjured in his left hand. "humanity thinks of War as something that needs solving - something that has no purpose but to tear down what others have built and yet, exactly _how _much would have been built in the first place, if not for War? Humanity cannot create without need, without a desire to fix what was broken and not content themselves with the result but _make it better._"

A shadow crossed Loki's face. If he were Thor right now, the room would darken with the outside clouds.

"Unable to build without something to first tear down, this - this _profligacy...i_t is humanity's greatest depravity, just as it is their greatest advantage. In some ways it is admirable, how you lot manage to exist within your own chaos, like a ladder leaned against air - stunningly delicate in its balance yet positively _stupid _in its existence. And that is, itself, the crux of the matter - you are destined to be ruled. _Humanity _has many rulers of its own kind, but because of your species' nature, they cannot see the bigger picture, therefore there is still chaos - only split into smaller sects of the same _filth _and _degradation _that humanity permeates wherever it goes. That is your _culture, _that is every Earth _culture, _a smart animal that, while smart, is no more than an annoying _gnat_ throwing itself repeatedly against the face of gods. Its bite is sharp and brings one out of focus, but if it continues to bite..."

Loki closed his eyes and tilted his head to the ceiling, the pen's twirling coming to a sharp stop in his hand.

"It will be swatted."

Emmi took a deep, shaky breath.

The emotions emanating from the man at the front of the classroom, which came in short, concentrated bursts, felt like little knives in her head. Some form of anger and dismay seemed to take up the forefront of her readings of him, but another sizable chunk she received was a tangled, conflicted mass that she neither had the time nor energy to attempt to unravel at the moment. Whoever this was, he was _not _the professor she knew. The girl slowly put her pencil down on the desktop, forcing her hand to be steady. Having control of at least this motion helped calm her, helped her regain her own footing in her mind.

So...either this wasn't Professor Harrington or the instructor she had known for this entire year had been doing an extremely good job at pretending to be someone he was not. Considering she had spent some time "in his head" so to speak, she had to admit that the chances of it being the latter option were slim. To be on the safe side, she was going to go with the idea that this was not, in fact, the actual Professor Harrington.

_Who is he, then_?

Though she was a bit hesitant to do so, Emmi wrenched her thoughts away from reading the man's body language and listening to his next words and turned her mind back towards what he had just said. He had been discussing war. He had been discussing humanity. But he had been discussing them both as if they were something removed from him-as if he were an alien or...Emmi frowned and was grateful, for once, that she was situated firmly in the middle of the classroom. She was about as inconspicuous here, in the thick of her classmates, as she could hope to be.

_There's no way that this is as weird as that. Either I'm a tad obsessed, or my world just got a whole heck of a lot more complicated._

Emmi looked back up at the professor, recalled again his strange analogy with humanity, gnats, and gods (it was interesting he used 'gods' instead of 'God' considering what she knew of him so far).

She mulled over it some more.

_All right, then. Looks like I'm going to do some digging after class_.

Strangely, this didn't unnerve her as much as she would have expected. Instead, she felt something uncoil in her stomach-something that had been stretched taut for far too long. There was something to this situation, and she was going to find out what it was. No one ever said she couldn't have a little fun along the way.

Loki bolted upright again, bowing his head and frowning in concentration. His hands clasped behind his back once more and he began to pace along the front row of student desks, momentarily lost in thought. "And why shouldn't it be eradicated, if not entirely then at least to the point of total dominance?" he mused, coming to a halt. "Is that not what will be best for this realm? A chance to regrow - humanity's own weapon turned against them and used to rebuild a far better world - one without pain or hunger or war, a world built not upon the backs of warriors with shriveled brains, but a _world built and maintained _through_ beauty and art! Drama _and _Wit! _How can anyone possibly dispute this new world's place as the rightful option? The true birthright of Midgard?"

Loki's eyes glittered green - a brief lapse of concentration as he considered the possibilities.

"Athenaeums full of scholars would replace fields full of soldiers, the fighting arenas would be turned into stages of marble and tapestries, the women will teach the men their wisdom and the ways of Sorcery and Magick, the beauty of Midgard would be the envy of every race and ruler in the universes! Oh, how the men would weep to see such a glorious sight and the women would wear with pride the emblem of Midgard upon their brows! This realm would be the rarest gem bound to the crest of a sapphire wave - a wave that will wash over all in its path and leave behind things polished and beautiful... and then,"

The illusion-cloaked god spun around dramatically, leaning against the desk with his head bowed and his bent back turned to his audience.

"and then, every mother would be proud of their son, every father would acknowledge them, and every brother will know his better."

Emmi was really excited now, although some darker emotion had crept into her thoughts as well.

She couldn't have been the only one to have seen the flash of green that had briefly become their "professor's" eyes. And it was _impossible _to miss the fact that the man was still referring to humanity in the third person, as well as using the Norse mythological name "Midgard" to describe Earth. Quite obviously, a large piece of luck-or maybe something more sinister-had finally decided to wander her way, and she wasn't going to pass up the chance to take advantage of it.

She clenched her fists under her desk and leaned back in her seat, head whirling. Her research over the years had prepared her for this moment; all that time spent poring over news articles and finding ways into documents someone her age had no business having her nose in. Yes, maybe some people in this classroom right now were confused and had no idea what was going on, but her?

She knew _exactly _who this impostor was.

"Class is dismissed." Loki said softly, still not looking up from his position at the desk. He was smirking underneath, having quite honestly enjoyed his little rant. It had helped that the audience had been entirely engaged during the whole spiel, and he couldn't help but think that perhaps a few of these inferior creatures might be worth keeping around when he finally succeeded in burdening himself with glorious purpose.  
As the room cleared, he straightened, a morning newspaper on the desk catching his eye. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, he shifted the corner of the paper toward him with one finger.

_Web-slinging Spiderkid An Avenger?_

Interesting. According to the date, he had fallen into a timeline five years ahead of where he'd come from, and apparently the... _Avengers, _as they had stuck to calling themselves, were hiring mere children to fight their fights.

_Recent reports state that multiple witnesses have come forward saying that during the airport skirmish led by former hero-turned fugitive Steve Rodgers (Also known as 'Captain America') against Billionaire Philanthropist vigilante Anthony 'Tony' Stark, a red and blue-clad figure was seen displaying inhuman feats of acrobatics while shooting webs to move through the air. This webslinger, a new vigilante the citizens of Queens, New York have dubbed either 'Spiderkid,' or 'Spidergirl' (although a few witnesses claim the hero him/herself has stated the name to be 'Spiderman), seems to have been a little far from home, but held their own against not only a seasoned veteran like Captain America, but a few fresh bloods, at least one of which appears to be Enhanced. Further comments on this out-of-town appearance are currently under review by the..._

Loki had read enough, thoroughly disgusted at Stark's behavior. Even in Asgard, the youth did not fight in wars - and this Spidergirl or whoever it was, would be better off being mentored at his own side.

Having had a taste of such a rapt audience, he found himself wanting more - and perhaps this one who moved like a spider and was adept at antagonizing the star spangled fool...would make a worthy apprentice.

* * *

Emmi took her time gathering her books and papers, which had remained untouched throughout the entirety of her _Professor's _little tangent. When the class was cleared, she donned a smile and approached him, forcing her annoyance and nerves beneath a layer of confident, polite ease-as if she knew Professor Harrington personally. This was a dangerous game to play, she knew, but she couldn't resist. Not after all she'd been through.

"Mr. Harrington?" she said sweetly, holding her books close to her chest.

Loki was _almost _startled. Luckily, he was the god of mischief and was never caught by surprise, of course. He stared at the young whelp, arching an eyebrow.

"I know you told Dad last week that you were having a rough time with your family...he just wanted to make sure you and your brother were still doing all right," Emmi said quietly, still offering a mildly sympathetic smile. She still wasn't entirely sure why she wanted to risk this like she was, but after finding out what she had about a certain "god of mischief" and "god of thunder" about a year back...well...revenge felt good, even if it was in a small insignificant way. For now.

"...Yes. As a matter of fact, we're doing rather splendidly. It was a rough go for a time, but I do believe we've set aside our differences enough to...respect the other's position. As is, he's moved to another location quite far away, so I doubt I shall be seeing him any time soon."

Despite the easy eloquence with which Loki purred his lies, his mind was sharp as ever, noticing something slightly...different about this human. She had approached him with such an aura of...understanding? Perhaps she and this teacher he wore had been close?

Emmi nodded happily, though she was, of course, inwardly disappointed at the fact that there had been no flicker of anything resembling an emotion (besides lacquered ease) to appear on the man's face.

"Good. Dad will be happy to hear that. Have a good day, sir."

Without another glance, she turned and walked out the door, resisting everything inside her that yearned to go back and tell him exactly what she'd wanted to since the day she lost everything. She mechanically slid into her next class and was about to open up her book, still lost in thought, when her phone buzzed. Mildly confused at this considering everyone she knew well enough to hand her phone number to knew she was in school right now, she slid the bouncing green icon on her screen up and put the phone to her ear.

"Yes?"

_"Is this a Ms. Emmi Russo?"_

"That would be me."

_"I'm calling on behalf Midtown High School. You applied for a substitute teaching position a few weeks ago, did you not?"_

Emmi's stomach jumped. She had, indeed, applied for a job at Midtown three weeks ago. Given the fact that she was so young, inexperienced, and that the principal who had interviewed her had quite obviously been humoring her throughout the entire interview (even without reading his emotions she could have guessed that), she had not been expecting to receive the job. She had actually given up hope when they hadn't called. But now...

"Yes, I did." She paused very briefly and then went for it. Her class was filling up, and she needed to wrap this up before the professor arrived. "Did I get the job?"

_"Yes, ma'am. However, I'm afraid that Principal Morita wanted to inform you that you will _only _receive the job if you begin work tomorrow and continue in the position until further notice."If you are not able to do so-"_

Emmi interrupted the woman. She needed the money, and she needed the position she would gain by working at this particular high school.

"No, that's fine. I'll come in tomorrow. Six, right?"

_"That is correct. You have accepted, then?"_

The college student grinned. Everything was falling into place in ways she hadn't dared to hope for.

"Yes. I accept. Thank you. Have a nice day, ma'am."

Emmi hung up and let out a deep, satisfied breath. Maybe teaching a bunch of hormonal kids wasn't exactly her favorite thing to do after a day in college, but it could definitely prove to be...interesting. She smirked.

* * *

**Hey everyone! If anyone's confused, this chapter takes place directly after the first chapter of this Fic when the Tesseract-stealing version of Loki from Endgame falls into this Time/Space. Emmi is an OC created make things 'interesting' for both bad and good guys alike. Next chapter will have our the boys and their adventures in schooling ehehehe**


	9. Redbull Recon - (Dick's A Bad Influence)

When Peter's aunt suggested they accompany her nephew to school, Wally's thought process went something like this:

_Nonononononononononononoono!_

_Wait, there might be some hot chicks there my age_

_Yes!_

_Wait, that means I've got to sit still in a chair for hours!_

_Nonononononoonnonoonononononono!_

_Then again, this might be one of those fancy prep schools like Dick goes to, so the lunch food might be gourmet!_

_Yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes!_

_Homework!_

_Nononononono!_

_I don't actually have to do it because this isn't even my school!_

_Hey...this could actually be fun..._

_YESYESYESYESYES!_

Meanwhile, Dick nearly spilled his third cup of coffee all down his new hoodie. That had _not _been what he'd expected to hear.

_Oh, hooray. A different set of jocks to deal with. Wait...I can actually defend myself this time without giving anything away... OOOH AND WALLY WILL BE WITH ME THIS COULD BE FUN!_

One simultaneously enthusiastic shout of 'yes!' later, and the misplaced teen vigilantes found themselves walking along the busy streets of uptown Queens with Peter Parker, backpacks slung over shoulders and appreciating the early morning sun on their faces, the glow of it lighting up skyscrapers and casting rainbows across marble fountains. There were quite a few people out and about, no doubt hurrying to their various jobs and businesses, and the streets were already packed with traffic.

"AwmanawmanawmanawMAN! This is gonna be sick!" Wally hooted, speeding up slightly and spinning around to face them, now walking backwards. Dick rolled his eyes and tracked his movement, knowing his friend trusted him to make sure he didn't fall over anything. It was _still _annoying.

Peter walked by his two companions' side with his hands in his pockets, feeling vaguely uncomfortable and also knowing he probably _looked _vaguely uncomfortable.

Wally was obviously excited, and for some reason, that made the whole situation seem scarier than it already was. He was going to walk into school with two new people-one of which was actually younger than everyone else in the high school, if he could guess-and no explanations. Ned was going to be all over this trying to figure out what was going on, and, honestly, he wasn't sure he could deal with that today. Not to mention the fact that he was still going to have to answer to Mr. Stark at some point, and this Penguin guy that had been mentioned earlier was probably still out there-in _his _neighborhood. How was he supposed to deal with all these things at once?

They rounded the block, then, and there it was: Midtown High and all its gated, been-here-since-1962 glory. Peter glanced at Wally again, swallowed the growing lump in his throat. _Oh, man._

He took it back. It wasn't all of those other things that scared him the most right now...it was the amount of trouble Wally currently had the potential to get into.

As such, Peter was more than relieved when he caught sight of Ned. His best friend was scanning the dwindling crowds with a mildly confused expression, which reminded Peter that, honestly, he should be glad he wasn't later than he was. Leave it to Ned, though, to be the one constant thing in his life right now.

The web-slinger smiled despite the events of the morning and trotted up to him.

"Hey, man."

Ned held out his hand for their usual handshake, which Peter gladly offered.

"Dude. Thought you were never gonna get here."

His eyes strayed to the pair behind Peter, and then they narrowed.

"Who're the new kids?"

"OhheyyoumustbePeter'sfriendI'mguessing!" Wally shot off, his face already stretched into a wide grin. Dick reached up and whacked him on the back of head, causing the redhead to yelp. "DUDE, what was that for?"

"Going a little fast there, Sonic." Dick smirked, then offered a hand to the vaguely Filipino Highschooler. "I'm Dick, this is Wally. We're...well, new."

_That handshake was seriously epic. _he thought privately, wondering why he and Wally hadn't come up with one yet. That time with the drug dealers and the game of rock, paper, scissors didn't count, in his opinion.

Peter watched awkwardly as Ned, who was staring with his trademark mixture of awe, confusion, and dazed interest, shook Rob-um, Dick's hand.

"I'm Ned," he said dumbly. Peter cleared his throat and nodded towards the entrance.

"Yeah, good. We're all...met up with. Let's uh," he gave Ned a pointed stare. "Go inside. You guys are gonna have to be registered and stuff."

"Oh we already are," Dick said offhandedly, starting to straighten his tie before realizing he didn't have one on.

Wally stopped 'stretching' in front of a group of cheerleaders (all ignoring him) and squinted at his friend. "Wait, we are?"

"Yes. It so happens we have the same schedule as you, Peter. We'll be with you alllllll day." Dick grinned evilly.

Peter swallowed. _How did they even have time...?_

He jumped up the front steps and held the door for all three of them to pass through. "Sounds, uh...good. That's...good." He smiled weakly. They had roughly two minutes to get to first period English, and he was more scared than ever.

Wally and Dick naturally gravitated nearer to each other once they passed through the doorway. It didn't matter whether you jumped off buildings, fought bad guys, and trained in martial arts in your spare time, or if you had superspeed and were from an alternate dimension, school was still _scary. _More specifically, walking into a roomful of people your age (mostly) who were all staring at you and having to find a seat that wasn't occupied and preferably not at the front of the room...well, fighting psychos at night was much easier.

They gulped, following Ned and Peter to the back of the class. Unfortunately, there were only three empty seats left together, and after a short but intense stare-down, Dick won by his version of the Batglare and Wally ended up sitting two rows ahead, sulking.

Dick let his backpack drop to the floor, feeling a lot more nervous. And tired. Luckily, he'd brought a remedy - a very _special _remedy. One that had been banned at the manor after an unfortunate incident where he'd gotten Alfred's favorite oven mitt stuck inside the wall.

Yeah, that had been fun to explain.

Dick fought back the urge to giggle, reaching down into his bag and withdrawing a shiny metal can with a red bull on it. Carefully, he pulled back the tab, faking a cough as the pressure escaped with a hiss. Sinking a little further into his seat so as not to be noticed, he gulped down a third of the sugary energy drink, knowing Bruce would kill him if he knew his ward was doing this, and that same ward loving every moment of it.

Peter sighed in relief when he settled into the familiar curve of his chair. This..._this _was familiar territory.

He might have even been able to forget about the events of the past night if it hadn't been for the distinct sound of something pressurized-and therefore illegal within this particular classroom-being opened. He turned just in time to see Dick gulp down a sizable amount of Red Bull, and he paled. The high-schooler leaned over and opened his mouth to say something, but Ned beat him to it.

"Duuuddee...is that an actual can of Red Bull?" his friend whispered, the awe so painfully evident in his voice. Peter glanced at the front of the room in panic when he heard the teacher's voice a second afterwards, asking the class if they had completed the homework for the night before. Any minute now she was going to remember that there were two new registered students, and then she was going to see the Red Bull. And then class was going to be interrupted...he was going to be somewhat (needlessly) embarrassed and mortified...and then who knew what else was going to happen. He felt as if Wally was a ticking time bomb, and all it would take to set him off was something exciting.

Like Dick being caught with a can of Red Bull in a classroom where even half an ounce of water wasn't allowed.

Dick looked over, eyebrows raised. "Of course not," he said smoothly, then looked pointedly at his bag on the floor. "there's more where that came from." he whispered, grinning.

Ned looked over at Peter, who shook his head (maybe a little too violently).

"Dude," he said.

"No," Peter whispered back. "There's no way that's a good id-"

"Peter Parker."

Peter went rigid and looked up at the teacher, who was staring him down with a disappointed frown on her lips.

"You should know better than to be talking while a student is introducing himself." She held the Frown of Disapproval for a few moments more before softening her gaze and looking back down at Wally. "Now go ahead. What's your name again?"

Peter felt like his face was on fire, and he was almost certain that it had been Flash's loud snicker he had heard just a few moments before...these moments were that guy's fuel, and they both knew it.

Wally cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder. Dick had his hood pulled over his face and tied so that only his nose and mouth could be seen and he was giving a thumbs up.

"I-I'm Wally, um, West? Wally West. Yep."

The teacher was giving him that painfully plastered smile that was all too recognizable. How long ago had it been when all his teachers back home had given up on that with him? Not that he was a bad student, quite the contrary - it was just so hard to stay in one spot, especially with the metal chair digging into your back and the concrete walls all closed in and the bodies packed into their own seats like sardines and the air conditioning unit kicking in and the clock going _so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sloooooooooooowwww... _and wait - had that been an energy drink in front of Dick? _Ohgoshnohedidn't_

When Wally stopped talking and began fidgeting violently, the teacher nodded somewhat hesitantly, raised her eyebrows, and then turned to her next new student. He looked a little young, she thought, to be in a second-year English class...

"And you, sir, are...?"

"Dick Grayson," Dick said automatically, then winced. Had he been in his Gotham Academy uniform he would have gone with Richard, but these normal clothes were throwing him off. Ah, well.

_Crap._

He'd also still had his hood drawn over half his face and was sitting in the back of the class, which meant he would be branded the 'troublemaker' in his class for the first time in...three years? Geez. Could be fun, though.

"Nice to meet you, Wally...Dick," the teacher said, walking back to the front of the room. She had managed to have three class periods in a row without many troublemakers this year, but, by the looks of these two, that was about to change. She braced herself for what she knew was going to follow her next words, and then turned to face her students once more.

"Now. I'm going to get right to matters today. Because of how disappointing your essays were last week, every one of you is required to rewrite them. I will _not _be giving your rough draft back, but I expect every one of you to turn in at least _something _worth my time. It will, of course, be based on the same book we read, and this time, class," she said, trying to keep her pleading tone in check. "Try to actually address the prompt."

She eyed the students for a moment, and then sighed.

"All right. You will have this class period and this class period only to begin writing. Anything you don't finish is homework." She looked at Wally and Dick, considering what she was to do. "Dick, Wally, I want both of you to write me a five-paragraph essay introducing yourselves, listing your expectations for this class and this year, and explaining what you think you do and do not need as far as instruction in English is concerned. Please try to do your best, use your best punctuation, and form complete, varied sentences. I will be using these to determine where your writing skills are at the moment."

She looked at them expectantly, and then, her business as good as completed, asked the question all teachers must ask at the end of the giving of an assignment: "Are there any questions?"

Wally's hand shot up faster than the speed of light. "May I go to the bathroom?"

"It's _may _you go to th - oh. You did say that - ahem, yes, you may use the restroom."

With a jarring sound of screeching metal on concrete, Wally stood up hurriedly and power-walked out of the room. He didn't actually have to go, of course, he just needed to find the nearest vending machine. The classroom fell silent when the door shut, then the teacher sighed, returning to her seat behind the desk and pulling up Candy Crush on her phone. She had a high score to beat.

Dick leaned over and tapped Peter's shoulder, drawing his attention before pointing at his bag and then making drinking motions to let the older teen know that his offer of caffeine was still in the books. Quickly swigging down the rest of his own can, Dick pulled out the half-used binder he'd found in Peter's room (the first thirty papers had what looked like a bunch of failed chemical equations for webfluid) and took out an empty sheet. Clicking his mechanical pencil until the lead had reached a satisfactory length, he stared down at the daunting white and blue-striped surface.

English wasn't exactly his best subject.

Like, at all.

Needless to say, it wasn't like his grade would matter here, so why not have some fun? He spoke fluently in eleven different languages, courtesy of both his upbringings, but of all them English was not only the hardest, but the _stupidest. _It made _zero _sense half the time. So, he would give it the treatment it deserved.

* * *

**I decided to stay up and edit the next chap cAUSE I had COFFEE and many escapades involving misplaced destinations, a garbage bag of popcorn, starbucks, prozac, and very loud electroswing. Honestly it's probably not as interesting as it might sound. ;P Anyhoo, thank you IcyFox17 for your awesomesauce reviewssss! Like, it totally made our day and made us want to keep writing this bit XD And would you believe it but I had no idea Mr. Harrington was the name of Peter's teacher when I wrote that ahahahahhahaa bLimeY **


	10. Two Teachers, Two Aneurysms

_**One hour later**_

Wally had come back from his 'bathroom break' ten minutes ago, looking very pleased with himself and wearing crumbs all down his shirt. The teacher made no comment on it, just gave him a 'you're-not-fooling-anyone-here' look and going back to whatever she was doing on her phone. Then a kid started zipping up his backpack and her head shot back up, her eyes flicking to the clock.

"All right, time's almost up. We've got twenty minutes left. Everyone leave your essays on my desk and I'll have them graded by the end of the week. Wallace, Dick, you will present your essays before the class, assuming they are complete." the teacher said, giving Wally another hard stare when she finished. The speedster swallowed, looking down at the wrinkled paper he'd written like, six sentences on while he was eating his fifth bag of Doritos. He hadn't had any money but Roy had taught him this real neat trick where if you shook the vending machine a certain way...

"Mr. Grayson, you may go first."

_Here goes. Eehehe..._

Dick slunk out of his chair and strode up the aisle to the front of the room, turning on his heel to face it. He made a show of scanning his paper once (the only words he'd written were, 'I might be trash, but it's called garbage CAN not garbage CANNOT' in the middle of the page), then cleared his throat loudly and squaring his stance.

"My name is Richard John Grayson and I was born at an incredibly young age. I was a genius chemist from the time of my birth, as I had already learned how to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide. I was born under an astrology sign and key characteristics associated with my sign include: having emotions, thinking thoughts, being either an introvert or an extrovert, having at least a few friends, being born at some point, and having a strong likelihood of being human. As strange as what you will hear may seem, my life was based on a true story. I first learned to walk on a tightrope and my first pet was a Bengal tiger named Aalta. I lived in seventeen different countries in the span of eight years, and my first language was Romany, which is more commonly known as 'gypsy' although that's actually a slur and you would be an actual uncultured pineapple if you referred to me as such. So yeah, learning English has been a very whelming experience and I still don't understand why the rule is 'i' before 'e' except after 'c' when there are more cases of the 'e' being before the 'i,' like when your foreign neighbor Keith receives eight counterfeit beige sleighs from feisty caffeinated weightlifters. It's just weird.

"Also I once knew a guy who could use chopsticks with his feet and was deathly afraid of ducks and he taught me how to juggle knives. So that was cool. Also on behalf of a friend I'd like to add that girls' shoulders are in no way distracting and I think it's stupid that adults get their knickers in such a wad over it. Also English prefixes make no sense whatsoever, because if 'dis' in 'disinterested' means without, then should shouldn't the 'dis' in 'disaster' make 'aster' a word meaning a good situation and not just the name of a flower? And same with 'distraught' and 'traught' and 'disturbed' and 'turbed' and what about 'nonchalant' and 'chalant' or maybe 'anticipate' and 'cipate' or 'disheveled' and 'heveled?' Or maybe - "

At this point the teacher was standing, red-faced and openmouthed with her eyes bugged out. This - this was an _outrage! _

"D-DETENTION!" she managed to squeak out, throwing her hand out at the door. "D-DETENTION RIGHT NOW Y-YOUNG MAN!"

Dick happily skipped back down the aisle, hopping over the foot Wally put out to trip him. He snatched up his backpack of Redbulls (Hmm, it felt lighter - looks like Peter or Ned had taken his offer up after all) then made a beeline over the door, calling over his shoulder, "AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE SOUTHERN DIALECT, I MEAN, _Y'ALL'D'VE? _WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEEEANN?"

Being the supportive best bro he was, Wally jumped from his seat to his feet, fake tears in his eyes and clapping dramatically while Dick walked backwards, bowing and throwing kisses like the performer he was. "BRAVO! _BRAVO I SAY! _ENCORE, ENCORE!"

The redhead was promptly commanded to join his fellow student in detention, to which he happily obliged.

At that moment, mercifully, the bell rang.

Peter jumped out of his seat, plopped his essay onto the flustered teacher's desk without looking at her, and then navigated the cram of unorganized students fighting to be the first ones into the even more crammed hallway. He caught up with Ned a few seconds later. They melded choppily into the river of other students, and Peter let out a heavy sigh, deciding to ignore the sound of their English teacher's voice screeching into the hallway: "WAIT! WALLACE, DICK...GET BACK HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT! I HAVE TO GIVE YOU YOUR PINK SLIP!"

"Man, the new kids are _awesome_," Ned breathed, feeling distinctly the weight of the two Red Bulls he had swiped and stuffed into his backpack (he figured Peter would change his mind and want one later). Peter glanced over at him, eyebrows up.

"What?! They got detention!"

Ned sidestepped a gaggle of girls and donned a dumb little smile. "Dude. Those girls smell like flowers."

Peter glanced back at the girls with their curled hair and flawless makeup. They did, kind of.

"That's weird, Ned. But really...you think getting detention is cool? Mrs. Robertson was livid!"

"You got detention."

Peter didn't have anything to say to that. He scanned the crowd for Wally and Dick, whom he assumed were _not _going to try and find detention or go back and collect their pink slip. He and Ned ducked into the math classroom and settled into their seats. Ned immediately began to rifle through his backpack, producing the suspicious sound of loose Lego bricks clanking against each other. A second later, and Ned, with awe on his face, pulled out a can of the forbidden stuff and held it quite conspicuously out to Peter.

"Got you one."

Wally and Dick chose that moment to enter, arms slung around each other's shoulders (which looked funny with the height difference). Dick was outright giggling, of course, and Wally was laughing nervously and looking for a way to inconspicuously snatch the energy drinks before his friend had another. A second's pause and another pop of the tab later, and it was too late.

"Awyeah, _math!" _Dick said enthusiastically, literally _hopping _over the armrest of his chair and folding into his seat with his knees to his chest. "Is this Calculus? Trig? Statistics and Probability? LEMME AT THEM NUMBAHS!"

"Eh heh, don't mind my little friend here, he's transcended nerd-level and advanced to straight-up cringe." Wally apologized to no one in particular, his face burning at the stares they were getting. Turning to Peter and Ned he whispered, '_HelpwhatdoIdohe'snotevenallowedtohavethismuchcaffeineunlesshe'sbeenupforatleastfortyeighthours!" _

At least the teacher wasn't in there yet. For a guy who dealt with numbers all day, he was always suspiciously late to start class. Peter looked on, mortified, unsure of what to say or do at this point, but Ned was on it. His friend patted Wally a little awkwardly on the shoulder and scrunched his face into something of a wrinkled smile.

"It's cool, man. Peter gets hyper on caffeine, too, and math class could _totally _use you guys."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, although he knew it was true. The can of Red Bull he had been forced to accept a minute ago had enough energy to make his spidey senses go nuts-even before he opened it up.

"Hey, new losers."

Peter winced and turned to see MJ sprawled in her seat, a book propped up in front of her. She looked over at him disinterestedly, much like a cat might when presented with a particularly overbearing human.

"Hey, MJ," he said, his voice cracking just a bit. MJ raised an eyebrow and jerked her head at Wally and Dick.

"I was talking to the _new _losers."

Wally gave the girl a once-over, taking in the mess of curls, the sour yet mildly interested expression, and the...odd fashion choices. The expression reminded him vaguely of Artemis. "Hey, yourself.." he grinned, half-turning in his seat and draping an arm over the back of it.

"Hi, I'm Dick and this is Wallace Rudolph West." his best friend happily interjected, making the redhead wince. "Have we started connecting trigonometric ratios with unit circle coordinates yet? 'Cause I had that thing memorized like, two years ago and I've been dying to use it again. Also do they make you show your work here? 'Cause like, my plans to just whiz through all the steps were F.O.I.L.E.D at my other school and it really made me go off on a _tangent. _HA!"

"You no, I think that's a _sine _of insanity there, bro." Wally grumbled, facepalming.

"Then make that a _cosine _brotha' cause we're all in this together!"

MJ stared at the two, expressionless, for a good ten seconds at this, and then she turned back to her book.

"Call me MJ."

Peter let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding-something about the way MJ stared so intensely at people always made him think that everything was going to explode the moment she turned away. He wasn't sure why, and he knew it so completely irrational, but the feeling remained. He turned away from the hyperactive duo beside him, trying to ignore the fact that Ned had reverently opened his Red Bull. The other teenager took a sip of the beverage, eyes wide, and then leaned back, smiling dazedly.

"Peterrr...you gotta drink some. It's like it came straight down from heaven and landed in my mouth..."

MJ snorted.

"Drink more Red Bull..._it'll give you wings." _Dick said in a hushed voice, his pupils dilated so that the blue irises were barely even visible. Wally groaned and let his head drop onto his desk. "Have some Walllyyyyyyyy!"

"My metabolism makes me feel the effects for like, three seconds." Wally replied wearily, his voice muffled.

"Eh have it your way. OH! OH, PICK ME!"

The teacher had been asking a question to the class, half-ignoring odd conversation going on in the back. As long as he got all their assignments uploaded and graded by the end of the week, he didn't really care what went on in the meantime. It _was _math after all, and very few understood the beauty of logic and numerical value like he did. This kid seemed pretty eager though, bouncing in his seat with his hand stretched as high as it could go. "Fine, uhhhhh new kid?"

"COSINE EQUALS FIFTY-FIVE!"

The teacher blinked, looking down at his calculator. It was, indeed, fifty-five. Did...did the kid even have a calculator on him? Then again, he sitting in the same area as those three nerds, Ted, M.A. and Potter, or something like that.

"Correct."

Dick spun around in his seat with a huge grin, hand ready for a high-five. When Wally still didn't left his head he grabbed the speedster's hand and slapped at it before dropping it again gracelessly.

Peter put his head down on his arms, watching these events hopelessly.

The more he thought about everything that had happened so far, though, and the more his thoughts turned to a Certain Decision he had made recently concerning the preservation of his youth, the more his tension melted away. He was dimly aware of another of Ned's exclamations and perhaps a few more drily derogatory words from MJ when he was struck with an epiphany. His day wasn't going to be normal, nor was his life as long as all of this was going on. Heck, it hadn't been normal since he'd become Spiderman. So...why not live a little?

He seized his chance when the teacher turned to the board and leaned over towards Ned.

"Hey...you still have that Red Bull?" he whispered. Ned stared for a beat, and then he grinned...nodded knowingly and proudly.

The teenager discreetly-for once-pulled the Red Bull out of his bag and tossed it to Peter. The web-slinger caught it smoothly and tucked it under the desk. His heart was pounding a little, and, despite himself, there was a single sentence in his head as he popped the can open, making sure to cough loudly to cover it up. He felt kind of bad for having it, but, if he was honest, the words did apply to this situation as well as the rest of his life.

_With great power comes great responsibility._

Dick's ears had caught the subtle sound and he whipped around once more, a smear of lead on his cheek where he'd been tapping the pencil absentmindedly. "You didn't," he grinned impishly, giving Peter the 'rock on' sign. "this is gonna be the BEST. DAY. OF SCHOOL. EVAH!"

Wally lifted his head slowly, an expression of horror on his face. "No...nonono! Don't make _me _be the adult of this situation just because of my metabolism!" he begged. "Ned! Buddy, you gotta stay with me here, don't let the caffeine take away your sanity and leave me with this!"

And who _knew _how many of those things the thirteen year-old kid had bought?

"Relaaaax, Walls. I've got this allll under control," Dick said happily, twitching.

Ned grinned and tucked his head into his neck so he could lower his voice, addressing poor Wally.

"_Give yourself to the dark side, Wally. It is the only way you can save your friends..._"

Peter choked a little on his giant sip of Red Bull at that, and it splattered onto the desk. He wiped it off with his sleeve, fancying that he could already feel the effects of the beverage in his blood-man, he had forgotten what pure energy tasted like.

"AND THAT'S HOW YOU DO THIS PROBLEM!" the teacher suddenly yelled, looking very sharply at the back of the room. The man wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, pretending that he was just imagining the cans of Red Bull he saw back there. Math was a short period. It was almost over. Soon, he would be able to rest. There was no sense trying to contain the inevitable. He sat down hard in his desk chair, thinking that maybe tomorrow he would start caring about what went on in the classroom; the year was half-over anyway, so what did it matter, really?

"The rest of the class is free time," he muttered, closing his eyes and letting his mind fill up with blessed, blessed numbers.

"Free time? What does that even mean?" Dick said, horror-stricken. This did not compute. Error 404, this reference could not be found and bad probably been deleted. "B-but what about functions? Periodicity? What about relationships between theoretical probabilities, observed outcomes, and sample sizes!?"

"Dude, would you just stop?" Wally snapped, wishing he had about five pizzas in front of him right now. The breakfast and vending machine foods were just gone. _GONE. _

"But...but you're my Algebro?" Dick whispered, giving him the puppy eyes. Wally immediately caved (even Roy couldn't resist that face - heck, _Batman _couldn't resist it!).

"Yeah, yeah. Look, just... I dunno, why don't you use the time to figure out the probability of us getting back to our dimension before Barry finds out I haven't replaced all the ice cream in the freezer yet."

Dick's eyes glinted and he flipped open his binder, going straight to scribbling out every possible equation. It wasn't five minutes before the entire page was covered. Wally shook his head and turned around in his seat again, leg bouncing. "So, like, what do we do after this? Can we meet this Stark dude anytime soon?"

The last drops of the Red Bull disappeared down Peter's throat just as Wally mentioned Mr. Stark.

He shot up in his seat, now jogging _his _leg aggressively under the table.

"Mr. Stark? No, no, no, no...probably a bad idea. Imean,he'sprobablyangryandstuffandknowsaboutyoubeingherealready,so...Ned, did you grab any more? Actually, no, wait, don't answer that..._Dick_, do _you _have any more cans of that stuff? I drank all mine and-"

Somebody abruptly slammed two hands down on Peter's desk, and he nearly jumped into his about-to-leap-off-a-building stance. It was Flash. Of course...

_Wait...Flash. Flash. THERE'STWOFLASHESNOWWHATTHEHECK?!_

"Sup, Penis Parker." Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes and shoot a web that would swing himself out of here. Seriously, though. Could he not think of any other nickname to give him? It got old; it really did. Flash jerked his smirking head at Wally and Dick. "Who are your new friends? A couple of new sorry nerds to replace your girlfriend?"

Peter just stared dumbly, his heart still diffusing Red Bull throughout his system. After a pause, Flash rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, loser. I'm gonna tell the teacher about your Red Bull...see how much you like detention a second time."

Dick, halfway in the process of getting _another _red bull out of his bag for both he and Peter, stopped and frowned. This sounded all too familiar. "Look buddy," he began, making sure to talk slowly and carefully so that this jock (is that even what this was? He didn't _look _like much...must be from big money) could understand his next words. "I don't know what your specific problem is, but I bet it's hard to pronounce."

Wally choked on his own spit before making an unsuccessful snatch at the Red Bull.

Flash sneered down at the kid who dared insult him.

"I could say the same to you, _midget_. How old are you anyway...nine?" He made his voice go up a few octaves. "Oh, look, I think I'm all tough but I'm actually just a stupid little brat...'" Flash stopped and laughed, half-expecting his couple of buddies to laugh with him, but they were in a different class at this time. He glanced over just in time to see MJ glance up and give him such a patronizing look that he might have paled a little bit.

"Seriously? That's the best you've got?" Dick asked, glad the attention was off Peter (the guy looked like he needed a break...and maybe another can of the good stuff), but annoyed nonetheless. Freakin' Highschoolers. "If so, you might want to up your game just a tad. Or better yet, buy yourself a sense of maturity, although I don't think they even make them in your model anymore."

"Yeah! Who do you think you are, anyway? Punk." Wally added, standing up and crossing his arms with a frown. "And Dick's _thirteen, _what are you? Eight? I bet you got held back in Kindergarten so many times Mommy and Daddy had to buy you into high school."

Dick cackled for added effect, giving his friend a fist bump.

Flash's mouth opened ever so slightly. He wasn't used to such biting retorts from his victims.

"I...no...Dad didn't...we..._I _have my own car!" The kid's face was flushed a hue of red he quickly attributed to his perfectly justified indignation...he was only having some fun, after all.

"Hold on. Stand there for a few more seconds. I need to grab my sketchbook," MJ chimed in suddenly. She was half-draped over her desk, hand under her chin, boredom written across her face. "Your inability to form a coherent sentence in the midst of your rage and deeply seated humiliation will be a challenge for which I'll gladly pause my reading." She paused for a moment and then smiled a tight-lipped, mildly sadistic smile, pencil already poised above a clean sheet of paper.

Flash blinked in confusion.

"Yeah? I've got _six." _Dick replied smugly. It was time to see what this kid was made of. Wally grinned evilly and pulled a pack of Lil' Debbie's out of his pocket, tearing off the packaging and biting into it heartily. It was slightly squished but it would do. Man, this MJ gal was _savage! _Peter was staring at the exchange with a weird expression and an open mouth, so the Speedster offered a smile and another Red Bull. The damage was done already, anyway.

Peter took the can of Red Bull with a whispered thanks. He was still in shock over what had just happened. Also...that had to be the most MJ had said all year.

Flash paled at Dick's words, his brain already scrambling to think of an insult regarding the kid's unfortunate name.

He was spared for the moment, however, by the piercing squeal of the bell. He had those five minutes between classes to think of something. He was going to have to enlist some help.

* * *

**So originally this end chapter note thingy was gonna be the OTHER writer person writing this story I dunno it's weird and we're both tired as all get out wot in the tarnation anyhoo**

**uh**

**french celery sticks and JEEAANNNNNNNNNNNN the french robot **

**uh**

**as you can tell this we are both brain fried because reasons and like we decided 'HEY YOU KBOW THAT THING WE WERE WRITING? LET'S UPDATE IT HA HA and so we did :) Hope you like! We love you guys so muUuUUUuuUchhhhhh ( thanks again from the other writer who doesn't do anything in regards to editing except delete what was already edited I dunno) anyway **

**Spiederman y u no in Marvel right now crying and shaking **

**Halp us.**


	11. An Occasion for Popcorn

"So like, that was fun." Wally commented as he began walking toward the door, wondering if he had time to raid the vending machine again before the next class. Then again, kicking the machine in a crowded hallway was likely to attract some..._unwanted attention. _"Hey, do you have any bills or coins?" he asked Dick.

Dick shrugged, one eye twitching. There was so much energy coursing through his veins at the moment, he felt like any moment he could develop lightning powers. What he _really _needed was to burn off this energy. Pronto. He needed to _flip. _"All I've got is one-hundred dollar bills, sorry."

"Ah, sh**."

"_Dude!"_

"...maybe Not-flash is right, you really are _nine."_

"Look, you know how Alfred is about language!"

"Oh yeah. That swear jar you guys keep in the Batcave is like, overflowing."

Peter and Ned trailed the two as they made their way down the hallway, walking swiftly and probably just a tad crookedly. _Man_, he was jittery. He trotted up beside Wally and handed him a five dollar bill.

"The vending machines near the old Spanish classroom are the best-"

"Yeah, they don't have any of those weird baked chip things," Ned offered from behind.

"Right. And lunch will be after this period, too, so...just see it as a thanks for back there, I guess." He shrugged, watching warily as the principal, who looked as if he was on a mission, strode swiftly through the cacophonous crush of hormones and drama, mouth set in a thin, tight line.

Ned nudged him.

"She's hot, dude," he whispered, pointing at the college-age girl who walked behind the principal. Peter would have agreed if it hadn't been for the slight shudder across his skin at seeing her-his spidey senses were going haywire with this caffeine to fuel them.

Meanwhile, Wally's entire face had lit up at the five dollars. "Ohmygoshyouaretheabsolutebest." he rattled off, grabbing Peter's face in his hands and planting a giant kiss on his forehead before running off (at a speed entirely too slow for his _tastes_) to the vending machine again. At this point, he would have eaten even kettle-cooked chips, but Ned's advice was good to hear. In the meantime, Dick had noticed Peter's sudden small flinch. He sharpened his own senses, snapping his gaze over to where the older teen had been looking. He caught a glimpse of an older girl following a straight-backed man in a dress shirt and tie just before they disappeared around the corner.

_Hmm. _Dick thought, just before the caffeine-induced, colorful haze he was currently viewing the world through took over and his intuition faded into the background. Just ahead the doors of the gym were beckoning and he quickened his steps. Seeing as this was a rather nice school, he figured they'd probably have some gymnastics equipment. Back at Gotham Academy, Bruce had strictly forbidden him do acrobatics at the school, which really sucked because Babs was always begging him to join the team. She was an accomplished gymnast herself, her movements streamlined and even more graceful than usual because of her dancing background. How often had he watched her flipping around on the balance beam, her long red hair flowing down her back and swaying with every fluid movement she made?

_Whoa there, Romeo. That's Wally's department, not yours. Besides, she's your best friend. BEST. FRIEND. Girl friend, that is. Wait, no! Not! AHH! _

"So like, what do you guys usually do in here?" Dick asked, trying to tear his thoughts away from the realm of discomfort.

"Watch female members of the human species while mindlessly discussing nerdy subjects," MJ deadpanned, appearing out of nowhere, bypassing the three boys, and then walking through the gym doors backwards with that same disconcerting smile she had given Flash.

Peter, who had begun to tap one hand nervously against his thigh and was still trying to forget the extremely weird and extremely unexpected low-blood-sugar-induced-Wally-gesture, shook his head, so very confused. MJ made no sense sometimes. Scratch that...she made no sense at all times.

"We, uh...do sit-ups?"

"Sit-ups? Sit-ups. Siiiiiit-uups..." Dick repeated, entering the spacious gym and immediately catching sight of the high bars. "...sit-ups." he breathed, slowly unclenching his calloused hands. "Sit-ups."

Wally appeared at his elbow, loudly crunching a mouthful of pretzels. "th'th ith like, wayyyy ni'ther th'n my thcool's."

For some reason, this combination of events suddenly made Peter feel extremely giddy, and that, in turn, led to a very strange, half-strangled giggle. He wasn't overly fond of gym class due to the restraints he was obligated to be under, but he had the feeling that today was going to be far, far different. They had Wally. They had Dick's creepy but still kinda cool ninja skills. And they had Red Bull, which was basically the closest thing he was ever going to get to underage drinking.

"All right class," the gym teacher said, his voice barely audible. "Today...we are going to have..." he pushed up his glasses slowly and let out a very world-weary sigh at the unresponsive adolescents under his jurisdiction. His voice was bland and perfectly matched the vacant expression on his face. "Fifteen to twenty minutes of free time...after that, we will play basketball." The man walked slowly to the stage and mounted the steps, then, muttering something like, "you can disperse now."

"YISS!" Dick squealed (yes, _squealed) _before sprinting to the opposite end of the room where the high bars and tumbling mats were. He didn't even bother warming up - he was already sweating buckets. Which reminded him... "OH SH**!" he yelled before sprinting in the direction of the locker room, mentally patting himself on the back for remembering to put a few pairs of Peter's gym shorts in there. Obviously they would be loose on him, but they happened to have a drawstring which would save him some embarrassment. Although that was a little late too, seeing as half the class were laughing and pointing at him.

No matter though. He would get to _FLY. YASS!_

Wally watched with some amusement before shrugging and following along at a much slower pace. "What can ya do? He was literally twelve last year," he smirked, silently dreading having to take off his hoodie and reveal his Maroon Five t-shirt. Maybe Dick's 'performance' would be distracting enough that no crazy Maroonhead fan would try to strike up a conversation with him on a band he actually hated.

Ned bobbed his head in what could have been considered a nod of understanding.

"Yeah. I remember being twelve..." he said. "That was the year me and Peter stayed up all night and watched all the Star Wars movies for exactly the 25th time. It was awesome." He smiled dorkily.

Peter nodded vehemently in agreement, itching to do something active and spidery (and definitely prohibited) himself. There had to be something he could do that would help with this caffeine high but would be completely normal and inconspicuous and not make anyone suspect he was actually Spiderman.

"Yo, Parker!" Flash's voice again, infused, once more, with confidence. "Your friend Spidey know you got some lame new friends?" he laughed at his own horrible attempt at insulting Peter, and all his friends laughed with him. "Looks like that little nine year old twerp isn't here to defend you."

_Is it just me or has he gotten nastier since Homecoming? _ Peter thought, squirming a bit at the remark about his alter ego.

"Wait, are you saying you're _scared _of the 'nine year-old?" Wally shot back, jumping to Peter's defense. If we was going to have to be the adult today, he was going to be the _mom _friend.

Dick chose that moment to reappear, eyes sparkling in excitement and black hair looking decidedly disheveled. The grin dropped from his face upon seeing Flash and his band of bullies. "Oh, you again?" he sneered, walking over until he was mere inches away from the taller kid. "Don't you have testosterone supplements to take?" With a cackle he sped off again this time making it to the high bars.

Wally gave Flash another glare before turning his back on him and facing Peter and Ned. "C'mon, you guys are probably going to want to see this." he winked, looking forward to it himself. Too bad the gym didn't have a popcorn machine - that would have been nice.

Peter felt odd just walking away from his would-be tormentors on that note, but he _was _curious to see what Dick could do. It might help him learn a bit more about...oh what the heck. He just wanted to do something crazy and reckless-forget all that Spiderman stuff.

The teen grinned as he turned his back on Flash (who was flapping his mouth furiously, like a fish trying to suck oxygen out of the air...although in the teen's case, it was _words _he was trying to find), grinned at Ned's slightly incredulous gaze, and grinned some more at the sight of Dick preparing to mount the bars.

Too bad there wasn't any popcorn around, this was looking like the right occasion for it.

Wally found a not-so-cozy spot on the bleachers (of course, being as cool as he was he made it _look _comfortable when he sprawled across two of the seats, lazily snacking on his fifth Lil' Debbies), where he proceeded to watch with interest as Dick finished his sprint to the bars. Mere feet away, the ridiculous little acrobat launched into a series of back handsprings before twisting midair into a fancy twirl and using the height to grab hold of the bar. The momentum took him forward and over, letting him swing over the bar twice before pausing in a handstand at the top. With a flair of his legs he spun around and changed grips, swinging back around to perform another back flip on the same bar before catching it again and continuing to swing.

Wally felt a rush of pride as he watched his best friend perform, pleased to see that the entire gym had stopped to stare, even the dead-eyed teacher. Dick was now moving from bar to bar, a huge grin on his face. Every movement he made was precise, calculated, and practiced - yet fluid in a way that could only spring from many years of skill, an innate talent that could not be denied, and a sheer love for movement that marked his every twist, flip, and toes-together aerial. Then the little twerp began throwing in some of his more... _fancy _moves (also known as, skills that were literally banned at Gymnastics competitions because they were far too dangerous to perform) and the redhead began to feel that annoying sense of responsibility again. After all, they weren't supposed to be drawing attention to themselves!

Peter had been expecting something impressive, sure-the night before Dick had hinted at some definite skills-but this? This was a whole new level of cool.

"Please say you can do that, too," Ned muttered, mouth agape. Peter shook his head silently, but already he was trying desperately to note exactly how Dick positioned himself to pull off the crazy stunts. It seemed the whole gym had stopped to watch at this point (even MJ, actually)...something about the fluidity of the motions and the swiftness with which Dick performed his tricks just mesmerized a person.

Man. Why had he never considered incorporating more of those kinds of acrobatics into his own style?

* * *

Dick was in his element.

No matter the time or place, feeling the smooth surface of a bar beneath the callouses on his hands never failed to bring a sense of comfort and home that no 'normal' house could provide. Even without the glorious rush he got from flying on the trapeze, Dick felt the closest to his lost parents when he was doing the very thing they had taught him. Lazy days spent on sunny afternoons on fairgrounds around the world had been filled with laughter, bright colors, shimmering costumes, warm smiles, and strong arms to catch him when he fell. And even after all that, after _the _Fall, Dick had continued to use the most important lesson his parents had ever taught him - to learn to love the fall and to pick himself up right after.

Turn after turn after turn, Dick built up speed on the highest bar before launching into his family's signature move - the quadruple somersault - which he used to dismount the bars. He stuck the landing perfectly, legs only slightly bent, before bowing deeply to his rapt audience, eyes bright, glowing grin still present, and his cheeks red from exertion. Naturally, Wally had started clapping wildly as soon as his friend had begun the first rotation of his flip, whistling loudly around the remnants of oatmeal cream pie.

"YAASSS DUDE YOU ROCK!"

Peter grinned and threw in a couple of claps for his companion at that final move-knowing there was absolutely no way in the world HE would ever be able to pull something like that off, but most definitely impressed all the same.

Crap.

Now he really wanted (needed) to do something. Climb a wall, maybe. Do a flip or two. Practice his entrances so he could land one as epic as Iron Man's.

He swallowed and drummed his finger along his leg, looking feverishly from one end of the gym to the next. Was there no secluded corner in this place? This caffeine was killing him.

"Peter. Hey, Peter!"

Peter focused on Ned's waving hand and voice, both of which had materialized out of thin air and were currently roaming in front of his face.

"...yeah?"

Ned eyed him skeptically.

"You OK, man? You've got, like..." the teen gestured vaguely to his own armpits with a concerned expression on his face.

Peter glanced down at himself, only to find that he was sweating profusely. Like, VERY profusely.

"Whoa!" He glanced up at Ned in panic. "I gotta go. I'll be right back...cover for me." He knew it would seem weird and unexpected, but everyone was marveling at Dick right now. He needed to get to the locker room to change...fast. And maybe expend a bit of this unholy amount of energy by jumping off the walls or something. It was getting really hot and loud in here. It also smelled strongly of sweathormonessocialanxietychologneandawholelistofotherthings that his enhanced senses weren't letting him ignore at this point.

The teenager turned and sprinted in the direction of the locker room, feeling uncomfortably caught between the simultaneous intense urges to either laugh hysterically, vomit violently, and swing himself from the gym rafters in an attempt to land on top of the rim of the basketball net in his spider pose.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wally caught a glimpse of Peter leaving at a weirdly hurried pace (for normal people, that is).

_Well that doesn't seem normal, _he thought, noting how the teen had looked rather pale and sweaty. His eyes were abnormally bright too, kind of like how Dick's were..._ oh, wait - oh sweet mother of cheese fries, THE RED BULL! _

"This all your fault you little pest!" the redhead hissed under his breath, standing up and brushing empty wrappers off his lap. The crowd of cheerleaders he had been trying impress earlier were all gathered around his smaller friend, making him even more annoyed. He had to get a hold of the acrobat's incredibly short attention span, somehow. "HEYY RED ROBIN!" Wally called out, and a little answering 'Yum!' sounded from somewhere in the middle of the mini-skirt clad girls. A second later and the black-haired ninja popped up at his elbow, causing a confused uproar from the cheerleaders.

"Jealous, much?" Dick asked smugly, crossing his arms. Wally rolled his eyes.

"Maybe if that didn't just look like a bunch of Soccer moms cooing over a new baby. Look, I think we've got a situation. Petey just made a break for the locker rooms, and he didn't look like he felt so good. I don't think having _wings _really _agreed _with him, if you know what I _mean._"

Dick had the good grace to at least look ashamed at that. "Crap," he whispered, already slinking away.

"Oh no you don't, I _warned _you not to drink those stupid things and now you've gotten Peter into this mess, so _you're _gonna be the one to get him out."

"How am I supposed to - "

"FIGURE IT OUT, _Batman's Protege." _

* * *

**WE'RE BACK AGAIN! (just in case it was immediately obvious ahahahahahahahahhaha ha. HA.) so yeah we're still tromping away at this thing and it's still fun XD stupid life stuff, interfering with our fanfiction writing T_T **

**THANK YOU GUYS FOR STILL READING LIKE AHH YOU'RE ALL INCREDIBLE AND LOVELY **


	12. Tony Stank and Dr Eggman

Peter found a spider in the locker room.

He had entered the stale, stained space and was debating over whether or not he should puke in the sink or start doing jumping jacks when his sharp eyes had come to rest on the thin wisps of spider web in one corner.

Suddenly excited beyond all reason, he had immediately bent down and, after determining it wasn't a poisonous spider he recognized, at least, he had let it crawl onto his hand.

Now? Well, now he was hanging by his feet from the ceiling above the showers, swinging slightly and chatting with the little guy on his arm.

"And Mr. Stark, you see, did this thing and reached around to get the door but I was all like ah he's going to hug me and that's weird but Ok and then ...Mr. Stark was like no kid we're not there yet and..."

The spider dropped a web from the tip of the teenager's finger and slowly lowered himself down. It was apparently as good a time as any to make a getaway.

Wally, Robin, and Ned chose that moment to enter the locker room, scanning for their missing friend. "Where'd he even go!?" Wally asked, unhelpfully looking under a metal folding chair. Dick silently pointed to the ceiling.

"Oh. Oh wow." Wally whispered, awed.

Peter paused his narrative to the now absent spider (he was currently scuttling past Wally's foot) just in time to see his three friends enter.

He yelped and jumped from his upside-down position out of pure instinct, (_whatifthathadbeensomeonelse? _vaguely resounding in his brain). He landed somewhat clumsily against the far wall, attempted to back up, tripped over a folding chair he hadn't noticed before, and then faced his friends, tense. Man, he was still sweating buckets. And also..why did this entire situation seem somewhat familiar?

The caffeine-addled teenager wiped his forehead desperately.

"GuysIthinkIneedsomehelp."

"DO you now? Well it just so happens _Dick _here is going to make it allllll better. _Right, friend?" _

"Oh, lay off." Dick grumbled, surveying the situation. "Guard the doors." he said automatically, and slowly Ned moved to block the entrance.

_WhatwouldBatmandowhatwouldBatmandowhatwouldBatmando.. _

He still had his utility belt, but despite having an antidote for eight different versions of Scarecrow's fear toxin, three antidotes for Joker's laughing gas (that actually needed updating after that fiasco last Friday at the Karaoke bar in the Narrows), two syringes for Bane's venom, and a couple of other basic poison antidotes... he didn't exactly carry anything to counteract the effects of Red Bull. Except...

Maybe he did.

"Peter, man, I'm gonna help you out, but I'm going to need you to close that window behind you so no one sees." Dick said calmly, using the same voice and approach he would use to talk someone away from a suicide jump. There was no window, of course, but it worked. As soon as Peter turned, Dick retrieved the tiny blowdart he kept for such occasions (third pocket, second compartment to the right of his utility belt, which he'd slung over his shoulder underneath his hoodie). One quick puff of air later and a relatively powerful sedative was emptying itself into Peter's system via neck vein.

Peter felt the sharp, unexpected pinch in his neck as soon as he turned to look at the window Dick had mentioned (of course there wasn't a window...he knew that!) He snapped back around immediately, geared up to fight if need be. Granted, he wasn't sure why they were attacking him, but there was no way he was going to be taken down that easily-not to mention Ned was in here and...oh.

Now that the pain had disappeared, he felt a little bit woozy. Not the super-hyper-about-to-explode woozy, either. This was more of a...pleasant woozy. Like when he got in from a long night of patrols and went to asleep almost immediately.

He stumbled to the chair he had tripped over and landed quite heavily and gratefully into it. He didn't felt quite so tired as to fall asleep, per se, but a little rest from standing might be welcome. Somewhere from the depths of his brain a little word was trying to surface. What was it? So...si...sell? Sed...

_Ah. Sedative. They gave me a sedative. What the...?_

Ned, on the other hand, was standing in front of the door, hands now over his mouth, eyes wide. He looked from Dick to Wally to Dick, and then he slowly lowered his hands.

"Did you...did you just shoot him with a sleeping-dart?"

"It was a mild benzo, a cocktail I made in the lab of valium and a few different types of anxiolytics. He might experience some dissociation and anterograde amnesia for a little bit if he's sensitive but otherwise, it's completely harmless. Compleeetely harmless."

Wally wiped a hand down his face, staring at the loopy Spiderman, now sitting in an odd position on the chair. "Or in other words, he's probably gonna have a hard time with his short-term memory for the rest of the day. Way to go, Robin. You're officially your mentor."

"Shut up," Dick replied halfheartedly, but there was a queasy feeling in his gut that told him he had definitely handled the situation like Batman. He wasn't sure if that was an entirely good thing or not, but there was no time to worry about it. "c'mon Peter, it's about time for your next class, dude."

Ned had no words for that. He thought he might have recognized a couple of the names in passing from chemistry class, but he couldn't be certain.

As such, he just nodded and kept his mouth shut.

This. Was. The. Most. Scarily. Awesome. Day. EVER.

Peter looked up groggily and gave Dick a suspiciously sideways thumbs-up.

"Yeah. Phthanks..." he slurred, standing up with great difficulty. "Classs..."

Mustering all of his spider-proportion strength, he managed to walk in a surprisingly straight line to the door, which Ned was, thankfully, holding wide open.

His head felt like it was being weighed down by a ton of bricks. Peter flinched. He actually knew what that felt like, too.

The rest of the school day passed pretty uneventfully after that, actually.

From Peter's end of things, it was all something of a shadowy blur of faces, words, and occasional random spurts of information. It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling, but it wasn't really unpleasant either. He just felt completely and thoroughly out of it.

"Dude. All your teachers probably thought you were high," Ned whispered to him as they stepped out onto the front steps of the school. Students were pouring out by now, jostling and shoving and laughing. It made Peter's head hurt if he tried to focus on anything besides his steps, so he didn't attempt to answer Ned's comment with anything more than a somewhat pitiful grunt of acknowledgement. His friend was probably right, but he hadn't asked to be shot with a sedative. And why, exactly, did Dick carry a sedative around with him _everywhere _anyway? Sure, he was a superhero or something like that...but where did he keep the thing?

They were pointed in the direction of his apartment (where his bed was hopefully waiting) when Peter heard a sharp whistle and then a familiar voice. He froze, swayed slightly on his feet.

"Hey...kid! Parker! Over here."

Wincing, Peter turned to see a familiarly sleek black car. Happy was leaning out of the window with an arm thrown down the side of the car. He had the typical disgruntled look that meant he had tried to fight a battle with Tony Stark and had ended up losing.

"Get your friends and get in the car," the man said once he saw he had Peter's attention. Peter knew it would be hopeless to resist (he had been expecting an encounter with Mr. Stark, after all), so he glanced apologetically at his friends.

"Works for Mr. Stark," he muttered, walking slowly to the car.

This should be fun.

* * *

He'd just gone to pick up the Kid.

That was _it. _Okay, maybe he had worn his suit because it was faster, definitely not to build up his image as the awe-inspiring omniscient mentor he was to the Kid. Peter. Whatever. Needless to say, he was a little _ticked off _and it was only fair that the kid got the ever living daylights scared out of him when he arrived. A hacker had just managed to hack into _Stark Industries _and they had done it through _Peter's phone. _Then the kid hadn't answered any of May or Happy's calls so _Tony _had to call him using his personal cell (which was the last thing he wanted to do since the signal had been traced to Peter's phone, which meant his contact info was now utterly compromised), and the Kid had _still ignored him. _

Someone was going to pay for that.

Well, not actually pay - he had more than enough money to make this whole situation just disappear off the record, but he needed to know how it happened in the first place.

And maybe he was a little worried, just a little. Peter wasn't even an adult yet, after all, and it was Tony who had given him (nearly) free access to high tech gadgets, suits, and indirect access to Governmental records.

Juuuust great.

Naturally, things didn't go to plan, which is why the Iron Man of the Avengers found himself letting out a yelp of indignation and surprise before flying his suit straight through a sparkling orange-rimmed portal. Tony managed to engage his backwards thrusters just before slamming into a rather nicely wallpapered wall, panicking only briefly at the dark coolness surrounding him before realizing he was not, in fact, drifting through space with a bomb. Instead, he seemed to be in someone's _home. _

_"_Hello. I'm Strange. You're Tony Stark, and future you has taken it upon himself to release Loki from twenty twelve into the current present. There are two interdimensional kids running about somewhere and the you that is now is going to need to find them."

"Friday, analyze current target and surrounding area." Tony muttered, and Friday silently complied. He kept an eye on her diagnostics report while walking forward, portraying a confidence he actually felt had been somewhat shaken. "So...who are you again? Nice place by the way."

'Strange,' as the man claimed to be named (it was fitting), raised a black brow, the slight wisps of white at his temples and his austere cheekbones making him look mysterious and stoic. He had a nice beard, though. "Strange, Dr. Strange, if you prefer. I am the wielder of the Eye of Agamotto and Keeper of the New York Sanctum. I protect Time from those who would disturb it and believe me when I say..." Strange narrowed his eyes, his cloak fluttering slightly with a non-existent wind. '...it has been disturbed."

"Okay, so let's say you're not a delusional Psychopath with a Dr. Eggman fetish," Tony said snidely, even the distortion form his helmet unable to mask his sarcasm. "exactly why would I let Thor's greasy-haired little bubba escape from wherever they took him back in the...the Invasion?"

"It seems to have been an 'accident,'" Strange replied dryly. "one that could be devastating for this current timeline. Alternate dimension, if you will."

"And the dimension hopping kids? I'm only humoring you right now because you can't possibly be making this stuff up, not with _that _face Mr. Spock."

Strange cut his eyes again, mildly annoyed. "That's what I brought you here for, to find out more about them. With all my arts of mysticism and the knowledge of Time's innermost workings, even I cannot quite determine from what universe these two have been ejected. All I know is, they are _not _of this world. And,"

Somehow, the wooden-faced man managed to make eye contact despite Tony's mask.

"they're with your...protege. The Parker child."

Tony's heart felt as though it had dropped to his stomach. Feeling faint, he weakly whispered for Friday to make another call to Happy.

* * *

**HEY GUYS I'M BACK**

**Sorry about the update wait... been going through some blahs in my life but hopefully things are on the upswing again. :D THANK YOU GUEST PERSON FOR HELPING ME REMEMBER THIS THING! Like, not even joking I'd forgotten about it XD **

**Anyhoo, hope you guys enjoyed! We'll try to update a little sooner this time ^-^ Also, finally - the infamous Tony Stank makes an appearance! ***cries in MCU*****


	13. Sad Conversations In A Stretchy Car

"And what if his 'friends' don't really want to get in the car with some random axe murderer who may-or-may-not-try-to-offer-us-candy-that-Wally-wont-refuse?" Dick said suspiciously, altering his stance ever so slightly. His suit was in his backpack at the moment but he wasn't about to let that hold him back of things got nasty. And yeah, maybe he had a little bit of caffeine still in him.

"Man, what's with you and axe murderers lately?" Wally breathed, wondering if his shoes would hold up in a couple-mile sprint.

"I had to take one down earlier this month and believe me, it was NOT whelming. The guy was giving kids candy with - actually, never mind. You don't want to know."

Peter stopped at the car door and looked back at his friends, just a little bit surprised and just a little bit uncomprehending.

His head was still a little loopy, it seemed, but getting better. Happy, however, merely stared at Dick and Wally with an expression Peter had come to know well in the past year or so-mouth ever so slightly open, eyes emanating complete and total doneness.

"Look, I don't give a crap about candy or axes. Just get in the car."

Dick narrowed his eyes, taking a small step backwards and keeping his hands firmly in his hoodie pocket. "No."

"Do you have food?" Wally asked brightly, eyes glancing from Peter to Happy. He needed to eat, this guy looked rich (check out that sweeeeet ride!), and Peter seemed to trust him without a doubt. "'Cause all I ask before you chop me up is that you let me die on a full stomach."

"_Ew." _Dick muttered, but gave up trying to be smart about the situation. It wasn't like he hadn't botched up the day already by giving into the temptation of forbidden energy drinks, and besides - he was kind of hungry too. Peter and Wally had already found their seats, so with a little huff and a roll of his eyes in climbed in after them. The limousine was almost as nice as Alfred's (a sleek old thing in mint condition he lovingly referred to as, 'Her Majesty'), but it held none of the familiarity that the former circus kid had grown quite attached to. This reminded him of their otherwordly situation and made him frown even more, sinking a little deeper into the seat and staring straight ahead. "Totally not feeling the aster." he grumbled.

Ned stood awkwardly beside the car after everyone else had climbed in, and Happy was halfway through rolling up his window when he noticed that fact.

"You coming or what? We're on a schedule, you know." The man checked his watch with a frown and then jumped his gaze back to Ned.

The teenager's eyes widened. He pointed a finger at his own chest.

"Me? You mean...I can get in, too? Like, actually ride in a limousine of _Tony Stark's_?"

Happy gave him his Look, ignored Ned's question, and then finished rolling up his window. Ned took that as a yes and happily jumped in the car.

"Best day _ever_..." he hissed to Peter, and then, after reconsidering that statement, couldn't resist adding, "Except that time that I totally saved your butt from getting killed behind school. _That _was pretty awesome." Peter snorted, glad he was by a window, and decided Ned deserved the little self-satisfied grin he had put on.

Happy glanced in the rearview mirror, sighed, and put the car into gear. Before he left, though, he had to clarify one thing.

"Just for the record..." he held up a finger earnestly so the teenagers clustered in the back could see. "I'm not your babysitter. I'm not your nanny. And you better believe me when I say that this will _never _happen again." He paused, let it sink in.

"Never."

That said, he had a timetable to comply to.

"That's pretty obvious, since we're not _babies, _and you're also not _hot. _Who ever heard of some old guy being a babysitter, anyway?" Wally smirked, leaning his seat back and putting his feet up on the one ahead. He never got to do _that _on any Wayne Enterprise merchandise.

"Where are you taking us, anyway?" Dick asked, keeping his voice neutral. The almost-familiar streets of New York blurred by outside the window, and it almost looked as though they were heading for the city limits. "I need to speak to your boss at some point. Is that where we're going? Do you guys have a hideout? Should we be blindfolded? Do you have zeta beams here? Is there going to be a kitchen big enough for my friend? How much do you know about us right now? Are we going to meet the Norse god dude?"

Happy ignored Wally very conspicuously and slipped on his trademark pair of sunglasses. Peter wondered how the man was going to cope with these two even for this car ride-however long that was going to take (speaking of which...it was looking like he might need to call Aunt May sometime soon and let her know what was going on). Regardless, if Happy thought _he _was annoying, he could only imagine what being in tight quarters with a ravenous speedster and somewhat intimidating ninja-acrobat might do to him.

"First of all, I'm only going to answer _one _of those questions right now," Happy began, sounding decidedly annoyed already. "Second of all, he's not _technically _my boss."

Peter opened his mouth to protest that point, but shut it again quickly upon seeing Happy's suddenly fierce gaze fall fully upon him via the mirror. The webslinger quickly averted his eyes and chose instead to start counting all the red cars that went by. It kind of numbed his mind-which was a service he direly needed right now.

"Anyway, I'm taking you all to a hotel downtown. It's safe. You can trust it. Whatever...Now, keep it down back there for a bit, will you? I need to concentrate on traffic." With that, the chauffeur hit a button above his head and coolly let the dividing window between the front and back seat block out all contact with his charges.

Deja vu. To this _entire _situation, actually, Peter thought.

"Oh-kay."

This was going to be a loooong car ride, Dick thought to himself, absentmindedly popping his knuckles. "Does he do this very often?" he asked Peter, feeling as though there was a good chance he already knew the answer.

Peter shrugged.

"It's just Happy. You kinda learn to go with it."

Dick leaned forward and rested his head on the back of the seat, staring at Peter and Ned just a row ahead. "So...you've got spidery powers from being bitten by a radioactive spider, you live with your aunt - "

" - _hot _aunt." Wally interjected dreamily, but Dick chose to ignore this and pressed on.

" - you have what seems to be a good working relationship with the top heroes of your world, yet none of them have like, I dunno, adopted you or something. Assuming you can be adopted and your parents aren't just off working or something. I guess what I mean to ask is, do you have parents? Are they okay with all this? From what I've heard, this dimension doesn't exactly have sidekicks or young heroes aside from yourself."

Peter felt a tad nauseous at Wally's comment, felt himself go hot at the mention of the word "adopted", and legitimately stiffened when Dick asked about his parents.

Maybe someone asking wouldn't have usually made him feel so small and attacked like this, but he had _not _been expecting a question like that now. His mind only scrambled for the briefest of seconds, however, before Ned jumped in, positioning himself so he could look Dick full in the face as he spoke.

"Dude. Not cool," he said, sounding so disapproving that even Peter had to glance over at him. "No one asked you where _your _parents were." The teenager shook his head solemnly. "So uncool to spring a question like that."

Peter swallowed and couldn't help but look down at his hands. Ned sounded more serious than he had heard him in a while, and while it surprised him that his best friend had spoken so boldly to these two guys who had, quite literally, fallen out of the sky yesterday, he was more than thankful for the backup.

This was pretty awkward, though.

"I'm sorry," Dick said quickly, genuinely apologetic. He stated down at his hands. "I just thought - maybe we... I dunno. I wasn't thinking."

"Uh, dude, YOU lay off!" Wally snapped at Ned, glaring. "It was just a simple question! And an obvious one too!"

"Wally, stop!"

"Guys...stop, please," Peter said quickly. He swallowed, finding his mouth surprisingly dry. He wasn't going to let this turn into anything bigger than it was or had to be.

"Wally's right. I..." he cleared his throat, feeling almost as if he were betraying Ned in some way. "My parents died when I was little, before the spider bite. No big deal."

He avoided looking at Ned and instead gazed out the window, knowing his friend was probably confused and maybe a little hurt. But the question made sense, and if they were ever going to work together and figure all of this junk out, he supposed they needed to know a little bit about each other. At this point, though, trying to learn anything else about their dimension-hopping companions might prove to be awkward and possibly strained.

On a more positive note, though, the little escapade had banished the last of his grogginess...

There was an awkward silence, and Wally's face turned as red as his hair. He didn't regret saying something, though.

"It is a big deal." Dick finally said, his voice quiet. "I lost mine five years ago - being Robin...well, it saved me. I don't know how long you've been Spiderman already, but it'll save you too - whether you realize it or not."

Dick closed his eyes, suddenly tired. How long had it been since he slept, anyway? Getting up and going 'shopping' that morning had seemed like an eternity ago.

Peter swallowed some of the tightness in his throat, and the ache it left behind-for some reason-reminded him less of the pain of his parents' disappearance and more of everything that had happened after Uncle Ben...died. But Dick...he had lost his parents more recently than he had lost his. And not only that, the younger teen could probably remember them a lot more clearly than Peter would ever remember his own. Something about that hurt, but was comforting at the same time.

He cleared his throat and managed to look at Dick. Despite the general awkwardness of this situation, however, the moment he saw Wally, still looking miffed and resolute beside his best friend, he realized something.

"Uh...thanks, Dick. And...I think you're right. I know 'sorry' doesn't always...you know...help when you lose someone," Peter paused, remembering Uncle Ben and all the times people told he and Aunt May they were 'so sorry' during the days after his death. He wasn't entirely sure where he had been going with that line of thought, so he pushed on to what had really been meaning to say. "But, well...Ned has really helped me through a lot of junk, even _before _I became Spiderman, and I think friends like that can also save a person." He glanced over at Ned, who was looking at the trio with a kind of forgiving solemnity and grinned. "I guess we could all use a "guy-in-the-chair" sometimes."

Immediately the tension in the stretched cab of the car lifted, and who could blame any of them if there was a sudden slight outbreak of moisture-causing allergies? Dick nodded, seeing Peter afresh. He'd suspected as soon as Peter had mentioned his aunt that the two of them shared the cringe-worthy label of 'orphan,' and this further solidified their similarities in his mind. "You're right. Friends are...well, they're all the family you need. Right?" he poked Wally lightly and the redhead scooted a little closer to pull his friend into a quick hug. That had long since stopped feeling weird once both he and Roy realized how much of a tactile person Dick truly was - and because the Freakin' Batman hadn't exactly seemed like the most - _affectionate _kind of guy, even Roy had tried to make up for that whenever the Troublesome Trio hung out together.

"Back in the circus, there was a phrase our Fire-breather used to say all the time. 'Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.'"

"Everything makes sense now," Wally laughed, putting up his fingers by his head to make it look like the Bat's cowl.

"...and obviously friends are around to ruin possibly feelsy moments." Dick replied dryly, but smiled anyway.

Ned opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, the car stopped with a sharp jolt, backed up, went forward again, lurched a few more times, and then came to an uneasy stop sideways.

"Dude. Is this...McDonald's?" Ned asked, looking back incredulously at the rest of the group. Happy flung open the door a second later, looking almost pathetically humiliated.

"Get out. We're stopping to eat."

* * *

**HeyyyyyyyyyYYYyYyyyyyyYYyyyYyyy**

**So**

**Uh, this is awkward. Heh. I literally used to promise myself if I ever wrote fanfiction I wouldn't be one of those people who never update...YET HErE WE AREeee. As I'm sure you and the majority of the world know, there has been A LOT OF THINGS GOING ON AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh**

***screams and definitely does not hide under a weighted blanket***

**But anyway, lucky for eveERYbUDdY there's still actually a lot of raw material from this story left on my computer, and while it's a finished product, there's a good many chapters left to post before I yoink my cowriter over and we actually maybe finish this. I mean, we already have like a sequel sort of thing planned where they're olldderrr and more has happpeeened and stuuufffffffff and no more spoilers ;) **

**HOPE YOU GUYS ARE DOING WELL AND BLESS YOU SOULS FOR CONTINUING TO HANG ONTO THIS LIKE THE LAST BIT OF DRIED PRUNE DANGLING FROM A PIECE OF TWINE TIED TO A STICK AND UNCEREMONIOUSLY THROWN INTO A POND THAT ONLY HOSTS BLUEGILLS love you guys**


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